


Like Air

by gwenyn_bright



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: 104th Training Corps Shenanigans, Angst, Awkward First Times, Bertholdt Hoover as an emotional punching bag, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Consensual Underage Sex, F/M, First Time, Friendship, Heterosexual Sex, Loss of Virginity, Making Out, Manga Spoilers, Minor Reibert scene (explicit), Multi, Oral Sex, Pining, Size Difference, Some Fluff, Some Humor, Titan Shifter Trio, Unrequited Love, defloration, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:01:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 46,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25760260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwenyn_bright/pseuds/gwenyn_bright
Summary: Bertolt has had a crush on Annie for years, but it seems that now everyone in the Training Corps is intent on making her aware of it. She confronts him and, when he plainly admits the depth of his feelings, finds herself very curious about how far she can take things. A lot of awkward smut, some happy moments, a sad ending :(. Spoilers up to chapter 127 of the manga!All chapters marked with * have smut in them!
Relationships: Bertolt Hoover/Annie Leonhart
Comments: 39
Kudos: 105





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Standard disclaimer: Don't own this, did it for fun, started writing it like four years ago and finally revived it a couple of weeks ago, English is not my first language, etc. All chapters marked with * have smut in them!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all begins in Marley, about five years before the events of the main story.

\- 1 -

Bertholdt Hoover develops a crush on Annie Leonhart around the second month of their training in Marley. It isn’t immediately obvious to him, just as it isn’t obvious to any of the children in his group the real reason behind their training to wield the Titans’ powers. They are, after all, children heading into puberty, and neither the boys nor the girls has had much interest in viewing each other as anything other than peers and potential playmates. But it is there, plain as day if a little attention is given.

As new responsibilities and expectations are thrust upon them, though, everyone in the group matures in an awkward and haphazard way. Close friendships are filled with dark rivalries. Developing bodies are driven to dangerous extremes in the name of a nation that hates them to their very core. The curiosity, the pushing of boundaries, the challenging of the status quo, the budding rebelliousness —all of them natural experiences in the transitional years of late childhood and early teen age— are weaponized to convert them into killing machines. In the midst of it all, any romantic interest is simply a fleeting feeling meshed with a thousand others of more substance and is quickly dismissed.

Furthermore, being mostly isolated from friends and family and instead raised in a military environment,  _ things _ are not explained properly.  _ Things _ being romantic and sexual attraction.

Biology is taught as part of the curriculum in the usual black-and-white fashion: both prioritizing first aid and basic medicine, and the most efficient ways to torture or kill a person. Reproduction is briefly explained. Contraception and venereal disease prevention are thoroughly but clinically explored —no matter how much the military discourages (or, at one point in the past, even outright prohibited)  _ things _ , they had to accept that humans are bound to human their way into each others’ pants. 

As for sterilization, while highly encouraged in older cadets, is simply not an option at their age due to concerns of the Warrior candidates’ bodily development.

At the time all of this information seems useless and even foreign, as the interest is not there just yet. It will come around, in time.

\- 2 -

A week before the departure of the squad of Warriors for Paradis Island, a grand parade is held in their honor in the Liberio internment zone.

Bertholdt and Reiner wait for their fellow Warriors in the military base, where the horse-drawn carriage they will ride into the city is prepared.

Reiner is positively giddy with excitement and had arrived two hours earlier than the accorded meeting time. He is certain that everyone will be in the streets cheering and waving at them. Everyone, including his father.

“I still can’t believe they chose  _ me _ !” he gushes, even though several months had passed since they had acquired their respective Titans and done extensive training and battling in foreign grounds. They were 12 and 11 years old, and their kill count rose well above the hundreds.

“I’m a little nervous,” Bertholdt admits. “B-but as long as we’re a team it will be alright. Right?”

“Definitely!” interjects Marcel, who arrives with his sour-faced brother trailing behind him. “We crushed that other nation so hard! And they had already known it was coming! The devils in the island are in for a nasty ride.”

“Yeah!” Reiner agrees with boundless enthusiasm.

“Just shut up,” Porco mutters under his breath, irritated.

“Pokko, don’t be rude,” Pieck’s soft voice comes from behind. She tugs on his sleeve to get his attention and it works for a moment.

“Don’t worry. I don’t care. He’s just jealous because he’ll have to wait thirteen years before getting a Titan,” Reiner retorts.

Porco pulls away from Pieck to grab Reiner by the collar aggressively. “You think you’re so great, but you’re just a little bitch who will fuck up, and  _ then _ they’ll make you give me your Titan.”

“Let him go!” Marcel intervenes, breaking them up before it escalates into a fight.

Porco opens his mouth to say something, but stops himself as he feels a painful knot in his throat. He huffs angrily and storms off, his lower lip quivering. Marcel looks on sadly as his brother leaves.

“What’s his problem?” Reiner asks as he attempts to fix his collar. 

Zeke arrives, and with his usual calm demeanor he offers to help Reiner. “Here, let me do it for you.”

After he straightens up the collar, he combs the younger boy’s spiky blond hair with his fingers and finally dips his own thumb in his mouth to clean up Reiner’s cheeks with a little spit.

Everyone laughs at the maternal display, except for Reiner.

“What are you doing?! You’re not my mom!” he protests.

“Your mom will kick your ass if you are in a parade where everyone can see you all dirty and disheveled,” Zeke counters, and Reiner has no answer to that.

Annie is the last one to arrive, and with everyone laughing at Zeke and Reiner, she goes mostly unnoticed except by Bertholdt, who sees her small figure approach quietly and stand just outside their little circle.

Her hair is pulled up in a ponytail instead of the usual messy bun and it looks shiny and soft. While her expression doesn’t betray any hint of excitement or nervousness, her face is lightly flushed and her lips are pink and puffy, probably from biting them.

It is then that the first pang of  _ something _ punches Bertholdt right in the stomach. It doesn’t go away at once. It’s sort of uncomfortable in its newness, but not entirely unpleasant, and he feels his own face heating up.

“Pretty...” he mumbles without thinking, and Annie turns to look at him.

“Did you say something?” she asks.

“Ah, Annie, you look so nice!” Pieck exclaims with a big smile before Bertholdt can stutter an answer. The dark-haired girl makes her way to Annie and holds her hand. “That ponytail really suits you. Can I touch your hair?”

“You clean up nice,” Marcel teases, noticing Bertholdt’s ruddy cheeks.

Annie shrugs, a little flustered at the attention she is getting.

“Seems like everyone is here now,” Zeke says as he acknowledges Annie’s presence. He glances in the direction of the carriage, where he spots the driver climbing to the front seat.

“Ok, guys. Let’s get moving, it’s almost time,” Zeke directs the children. “Hey, Galliard! Come say good luck to your brother. They are leaving soon!”

When there is no sign of the distant shadow that is Porco returning to their little circle, he shrugs.

“Well, you still have a week before departing, so don’t worry about it. He’ll be over it soon.”

“I’m sure he’ll see the parade with your parents,” Pieck assures the worried Marcel. “You know how he is.”

Marcel smiles at her. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Zeke shepherds them to the carriage and opens the door for them. Bertholdt steps in first, scooting all the way to the end of the back seat. Reiner moves in to go next, but Marcel places a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“No, wait, Reiner. You go last,” he says. When Reiner pouts, he continues. “You two are the tallest of the team, so you should be on both ends. It will look nicer for the parade.” 

“Wha–?”

The perceptive Zeke seconds this quickly before Reiner can protest. “Well said, Marcel. Annie, you sit next to Bertholdt”.

Annie climbs the carriage and plops inattentively next to Bertholdt, who smiles at her shyly.

When they are all set, the driver guides the horse outside of the training complex and into the bustling streets. People cheer from all directions at the Warriors that will redeem the Eldian race. There are people on the streets and sidewalk, of course, but also looking from windows and roofs, sitting on walls, hanging from tree branches, statues, and even light posts

All four children stiffen, unsure of what to do for the first few minutes of the trajectory. It’s overwhelming to see the multitude clapping and cheering and screaming their names. Their photos and profiles had been published in the newspaper several times now so it shouldn’t be unexpected, but they are not prepared to handle it. They are just children.

Marcel’s face brightens the moment he spots his family among the crowd. His mother cups her hands around her mouth to scream “That is my son! My Marcel!” while his father waves a Marleyan flag enthusiastically. Porco is with them, his face half-buried in his mother’s bosom and streaked with tears. Marcel waves at them, suppressing the tears that prickle at the corners of his eyes. The crowd goes wild the moment he does this, and he continues waving, with the cheers getting louder and louder.

Bertholdt and Reiner follow his example and wave at the crowd, though not as enthusiastically. Still, it is impossible for the children not to be encouraged by the positive reaction and general atmosphere of the event.

Only Annie remains deadly still and facing forward. She hates this and tries to think of something else, to transport her mind elsewhere and get away from the crowd, to be alone in the world. No one else but her and her thoughts.

\- 3 -

The four children set foot on the Island. Not two days pass before Marcel gets eaten and with him, the Jaw Titan is lost. Wall Maria falls. Then two more years pass; Annie, Bertholdt, and Reiner join the 104th Training Corps to infiltrate into the Military and break things from within.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 14/Oct/2020 - Updated with minor edits (proofreading & style correction)


	2. Chapter 1: A Referendum On Attractiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Various events in the span of several months make Annie aware of Bertolt's crush on her. The 104th training corps will not let her ignore it, especially Reiner. Bertolt has no idea what is going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smut in this chapter! The lemony goodness starts on the next one.

\- 1 -

The first time Annie considers the possibility of being the object of Bertholdt’s affection occurs in the late fall of 847. As the chances of snowfall increase, prolonged outdoor activities for the 104th Training Corps are left behind in favor of drills that can be executed mostly indoors like this one.

The activity consists of a basic stake-out exercise, five hours in duration. Ten cadets are selected at random and divided into two teams: the offensive team, which plans and executes a raid on an isolated cabin in the forest; and the defensive team, which stands its ground inside that cabin to prevent the other team from entering. Once the five hours pass —or either team succeeds first— they switch sides and start over. The next day, another group of ten cadets repeats the exercise, and so on.

Annie, Reiner, Connie, Samuel, and Ruth form the defensive team. As soon as they reach the cabin, the five cadets spend about half an hour deciding on a defense strategy that seems sound. There is a faint excitement in the air, and they chit-chat a little bit while waiting for the offensive team. They talk about the quality of the food in the canteen, their family and friends back home, how scary Keith Shadis is, among other subjects.

Then three hours pass with no sign from the offensive team. 

“It’s probably because that moron Eren and that idiot Jean are still arguing about some stupid minor detail,” Connie sighs.

“I have no proof about that, but also no doubts,” Reiner agrees.

The team relaxes considerably, and their conversation is now less stiff and with a lot more cursing. Annie joins in two or three times because she is also bored, but never lowers her invisible barrier, the only thing that makes the cognitive dissonance of their mission bearable.

Reiner, on the other hand, is fully immersed in his big-bro/Marcel persona almost every waking hour. Right now he is full-on chummy with Connie and Samuel, commiserating on the situation inside Wall Maria for which he is directly responsible for.

Strong, reliable Reiner. She wants to be disgusted at how everyone looks up to him, and how he basks in the attention after being a total weenie in Marley and when Marcel was eaten. She wants to be sickened by how he pressures her to reduce the interactions with him and Bertholdt in public (so as to not cause suspicion), while never subjecting himself to those standards.

It’s not that she minds being by herself —she much prefers it to being among any group of people— but after years of being together, Bertholdt and Reiner are the closest thing to a home that she can claim. A fucked-up home, with her beating Reiner half to death, and Reiner guilt-tripping her and Bertholdt into not returning to Marley. Then again, her home with her father was also fucked up.

No. If Annie is being honest, she feels doesn’t feel disgusted, but rather sorry for–

“Bertholdt has a crush on Annie,” Reiner whispers to Connie while making eye contact with Annie. It is a harsh, loud whisper meant to be heard by everyone inside the cabin.

Her previous mild annoyance turns into shock and then transforms into an impotent rage because she cannot confront him about this while in the presence of others. She returns his insolent grin with a death glare.

“What?! No way!” Connie exclaims, turning his head to look at Annie, then back at Reiner.

Samuel and Ruth’s faces are elated. Love gossip is a rare commodity in the Training Corps, and a rumor of this category meant people would give away their bread or do their unpleasant chores in their stead in exchange for the juicy details.

“That is not true,” Annie says slowly. Her voice is dripping with the cold promise of murder.

“Of course it’s true,” Reiner retorts. “He is my best friend, and I’ve seen how he stares at you with puppy eyes, following your every move  **♡** . ”

There is an extended, uncomfortable silence. All previous alertness to detect the offensive team approaching is now on Annie and Reiner.

Finally, Annie speaks. “I didn’t think Bertholdt could be so shallow as to have a crush on  _ someone _ who has spoken, at the most, _ five times with him _ since we joined the Training Corps,” she remarks, putting emphasis on the distance Reiner had imposed on them.

Somehow, the words that come out of Annie’s mouth are more violent than if she had punched Reiner. They all like Bertholdt —not in the same way as Reiner, but he was smart, kind, and reliable, if a little on the quiet side. Hearing Annie talk about him with the same amount of revulsion as she would talk about a dead rat made them very uncomfortable.

Reiner is now sobering from his former cheekiness and turns away without another word.

They all remain silent for the remainder of the exercise, and when the offensive team storms in barely 5 minutes before the deadline, Annie disarms all five of them with amazing accuracy and leaves them (and Reiner, while she is at it) disoriented with their rear ends up.

\- 2 -

To Annie’s surprise, the rumor about Bertholdt having a crush on her doesn’t spread. Connie, Samuel, and Ruth, it seems, value their physical integrity more than an extra bannock or getting out of night patrol duty during winter. 

She can’t shake off her anger at Reiner, however, so she is even more distant and crabby during their midnight reunions in the forest. Reiner usually explains the plan, she grunts in acceptance, and executes it, reporting her findings the next day with the least amount of words possible. 

Annie is also angry at Bertholdt, even though he has very little to do with the situation (though it could also be exclusively his fault, all things considered).

For the first time, she notices the considerations he has with her —present and past. Offering the softest or cleanest bedroll for her to sleep on; insisting on giving her privacy for changing or relieving herself when Reiner was adamant it was not needed; managing to sneak a sweet pastry to her (the mere fact that he noticed how much she liked sweets!); giving her a flower one time, to cheer her up, and he had been so red she had thought he had a fever; protesting when she called herself un-cute; sharing a blanket on cold nights so he could pass his body heat to her, though never actually touching her.

She has always attributed it to camaraderie; maybe even true friendship on his part beyond their roles in the mission. They pretend not to know each other and avoid interaction as much as possible, but now she can see how he follows her with her gaze, and how he smiles at her briefly if their eyes meet.

It could be just friendship, but it also could be a crush, and both of these options infuriate her. 

\- 3 -

The second time Annie is made aware of Bertholdt’s feelings is several months after the incident in the cabin.

It is a clear spring night. The boys’ barracks are always noisy, and this Saturday night is no exception. It is still relatively early, and Jean and Reiner are making a survey about who is the cutest girl in the 104th Training Corps, Southern division. Jean insists it is Mikasa, while Reiner declares that it is undoubtedly Krista.

“I think Hannah is the cutest,” says Franz when asked to choose between the two girls.

“Haa?! What are you talking’ about?!” exclaims Jean, poking him in the chest with his index finger.

“I think Mina is cuter!” pipes in a deep voice from the end of the room.

“Shut up, you idiots! Who even cares which girl is the cutest?! You should be thinking about–”

“SHUT UP, EREN!” scream at least five of the boys at the same time, much to Eren’s annoyance.

“Armin, say something!” Eren demands, but Armin just smiles in apology.

“Come on, Eren. I may be against it if they were rating each girl by their appearance, but it’s just guys saying who they like best, and so there’s no real harm…”

Eren huffs, feeling betrayed, and rolls over facing the wall.

Reiner crosses his arms over his chest and nods sagely. This won’t do.

“This calls for a more thorough voting scheme. Alright, everyone, we’re setting up a ballot! Name your candidates.”

Reiner sits down on his bed with a notebook and a pencil, and the rest of the boys move closer, sitting wherever available. Several voices pipe up: 

“You gotta include Ruth Kline!”

“The potato girl! Write down the potato girl!”

“Why bother? Krista is obviously gonna win!”

Bertholdt, who has been in his bed next to Reiner since before this all started, just looks down at the list.

“Okay, guys, two more names!” announces Reiner.

“Hannah! Don’t forget Hannah!”

“All of you guys are stupid! Why don’t you rate the girls’ strength or combat prowess instea–”

“SHUT UP, EREN!!!”

“You can write in Annie, Reiner,” Bertholdt suggests in a moderate voice, trying to sound casual.

Just as he speaks up, the noisy room falls silent for a brief moment and his voice travels clear as day through the room. Everyone’s eyes are on him in a second.

“Arright! At Bertl’s request, Miss Annie Leonhart is the last candidate,” Reiner announces with a teasing smirk, writing down her name.

“Way to go, Bertl!” cheers Connie, giving him a thumbs up.

Bertholdt’s ears are hot, and he is sure his face is also pretty flushed.

“I- I don’t… I mean– I,” he stutters, but Reiner’s voice booms and drowns his weak protests.

“Okay, our seven candidates are: Krista Lenz, Mikasa Ackerman, Mina Carolina, Hannah Diamant, Sasha Blouse –this is the potato girl, everyone–, Ruth Kline, and Annie Leonhart. Everyone, write down who you’re voting for on a piece of paper and give them to Jean.”

Jean uses his pillowcase to gather the votes, and Marco is tasked with tallying them. He passes the results to Reiner, who smiles as he reads them.

“Quiet down, everyone, the results are in.”

There was a quiet excitement in the room.

“Krista, six votes. Mikasa, four votes.”

“That is bullshit, you guys!”

“Sorry, Jean. Democracy has spoken.” 

Reiner continues, “Mikasa’s abs, one vote?”

Everyone turns to Eren’s bed, where he is sitting cross-legged and cross-armed. He stares back at the group of young men defiantly.

“I refuse, on principle, to–”

The collective desperation of the male cadets is concentrated in one common sentiment: “SHUT THE FUCK UP, EREN!”

“Hey, calm yourselves,” Reiner chides. “Where was–? Ah, yes. Mina, two votes. Hannah, one vote.”

“Goddammit, Franz! That vote should have been for Mikasa!” Jean protests.

“I voted with my heart, you asshole!” Franz answers, somewhat offended.

“The potato girl has zero votes,” Reiner continues, raising his eyebrows in surprise. The cadets are talking between themselves, laughing at the current results of the popular vote. 

“Why did anyone nominate her if he wasn’t ever gonna vote for her?” someone asks, and everyone agrees with this observation.

“She could be pretty, but she's too weird,” another person interjects.

"Oi, oi!" Connie starts angrily, coming to defend the best friend he didn't even vote for.

“Calm down, we’re almost done!” Reiner bellows, trying to be heard above the general disarray. “Ruth, two votes.”

“Aaand, last but not least,” Reiner says with a shit-eating grin, giving a small pause between each word to accentuate then, “one vote for Annie.”

All eyes are back on Bertholdt.

“BERTL LOVES ANNIE!” Connie shouts, and the whole room explodes in whooping and kissing sounds, and pillows are tossed to Reiner and Bertholdt’s general direction.

“I-It’s not like tha–,” Bertholdt protests but is cut short by Reiner headlocking him and messing his hair.

“You gotta tell her, Bertl!” he says in playful encouragement.

Normally, Bertholdt would have been somewhat worried about Reiner being too friendly with the other cadets. Participating in the voting of their fellow female comrades’ attractiveness was one thing, but planning and directing the whole scene is downright concerning. Given the unexpected turn of events and him ending up being in the spotlight, however, Reiner’s erratic behavior is the last thing on his mind right now.

Bertholdt has harbored very strong feelings for Annie for years but has never acknowledged them. Yes, he can identify her out of dozens or even hundreds in a crowd that wears the same uniform, and in that first moment of recognition, his stomach fills with butterflies. Yes, he can feel his cheeks flush whenever their eyes meet or their arms brush for a second. And, yes, he dreams of her and wakes up hot and bothered more times than he can count. 

He knows all of these things and more but never once has he threaded together the words “I” and “love” and “Annie” because then it would be real and he really wants to believe that he can ignore the feelings away. Ignoring them obviously doesn’t work, and now his face is red from both embarrassment at being confronted publicly about his infatuation and the effort to get out of Reiner’s headlock.

“Bertholdt loves Annie!” is echoed again and again.

“You… guys…” he manages to say, half-choking. He isn’t sure there is much else he could add to that.

“She’s super scary, Bertl. What do you see in her?”

“Since when have you liked her?”

“Oh, shi–,” and then silence.

For the second time that night, the room falls completely silent. They all stare at the open door, where Annie and Mina look at the chaos from the hallway.

Annie sports her usual disinterested expression in her face, but she is looking directly at Bertholdt and Reiner. Reiner releases the taller boy immediately as if he were a hot potato.

“Connie, you were not present for patrol duty with Mina so I had to step in before my shift,” she explains in a neutral pitch that reveals no emotions. She does not look at Connie.

“W-we just wanted to warn you because Shadis will be here any minute,” Mina pipes in, blushing with excitement at the new gossip. “Sasha is waiting for you at the watchtower.”

“Aw, crap!” Connie groans, rushing to his bed and stripping from his pajamas and jumping into his uniform without considering there are two girls present.

Annie turns to leave, but Reiner calls out to her.

“Annie, we can explain–”

She interrupts him mid-sentence with a loud “Don’t!” and disappears into the dark corridor, Mina following along.

All the boys except for Connie crawl to their respective beds.

“Damn, Bertholdt. I didn’t expect her to, y’know, pop up in the boy’s bedroom? We were just playing around,” mutters Reiner, having the decency of sounding ashamed.

“It’s fine. I don’t think she’ll take it seriously,” Bertholdt answers somberly. For the first time in years, he feels a cold chill spread over his body. He can’t believe what just happened.

\- 4 -

“You will never believe what just happened,” Mina whispers to Krista.

There is an attempt at secrecy, but the meaning behind that phrase is like a spell that makes the ears of everyone in the room perk up and listen attentively.

“What?” Krista asks excitedly in the same hushed tone.

The lights are out even though it’s relatively early and there are no curfews for Saturday nights. The idea behind it is that whoever wants to keep talking will just go out of the room and hang around the hallway or in the stairs outside the building, while anyone who wants to sleep can do just that. However, it’s just an idea because everyone will keep talking, but in the dark.

Krista rolls over and props herself up with her elbows to face Mina. Ymir, who often sleeps in the same bed with Krista, turns lazily to see what has caught her interest.

“So, you know how Annie and I had patrol duty earlier and…?”

Annie, who is curled up in her bed pretending to be asleep, rolls her eyes. It was bound to happen eventually —the fact that the rumor of Bertholdt’s infatuation hadn’t spread yet was a combination of a small number of witnesses, the unverifiability of Reiner’s claims, and luck.

This time, however, she is certain every single cadet will know about Bertholdt’s alleged crush by the next morning before breakfast is over. 

“No way!” Krista exclaims as Mina recounts the anecdote, and quickly claps her mouth with her hands.

“Shh!” Ymir chides her and then urges Mina to continue. “But how did it start?”

“I’m not sure. We heard a bit from outside but it wasn’t very clear. I think they were making a survey about the girls they liked or something.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet!” Krista murmurs.

“D-did you hear who Thomas liked?” a shy voice asks from the shadows.

"No, sorry," Mina says. "But, Ruthie, you got two votes!"

Annie likes — _ tolerates _ , she corrects herself— Mina. She's sweet but not in a saccharine, over-the-top Krista-ish way, and is all-around pretty unremarkable in looks, smarts, and physical abilities, which means she doesn’t often draw attention to herself. The only thing that is above average is her enormous appetite for gossip, which is now in full display. And it’s not mean-spirited, she is genuinely excited that her friend Annie, who is so cold, has an admirer and everyone just has to know to support it! It’s aggravating, but that insatiable thirst to communicate information has been useful to Annie before, so she resigns herself and continues to listen to her  _ friend _ recount the scene.

Then, the door of the girls’ dorm bursts open with a bang and an exhilarated Sasha storms in screeching "You are not going to believe what Connie just told me! But first, you have to pledge your bread!"


	3. Chapter 2: Curiosity-Driven Exploration*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annie finds Bertolt doing the dishes all alone and makes him explain himself for the events of last night (even though he had nothing to do with them). Then, when everything seems to be back to normal, both of them are assigned to night patrol and things heat up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The smut begins in this chapter!

\- 1 -

The next morning, Annie preemptively avoids human contact of any kind by being late for breakfast and, when she finally goes to the mess hall, sports her most dangerous glare yet.

She knows all eyes will be on her and Bertholdt for at least a week unless something of more impact happens. While tempted to do some Titan-shifting shenanigans for the sake of being out of the spotlight, she brushes the fantasy of chaos and confusion and resigns herself to endure the embarrassment.

After all, it's a Sunday and there is no training; the cadets usually go to town or into the forest or just try to relax in the dorms. If she is lucky, the morbid curiosity of the gossip will die by the end of the day. Still, she makes a promise to herself to kick Reiner's ass as soon as the opportunity arises.

Annie sits alone and eats the cold porridge slowly, not really hungry. She remembers her father, whose cooking is almost as awful as what is currently sitting on her plate. He was never particularly concerned about whether his food was palatable or not, as long as it represented adequate nutrition for her martial arts training.

Her throat tightens. She wants to go back desperately to him, her father, even when she thought she hated him for the longest time. It all changed hours before leaving for the mission, and she still doesn't know why the change of heart in both of them.

Was it guilt about attacking and crippling her father permanently? Does she love him? Maybe she is so desperate for love that she will take anything she can get from him. And, in any case, does  _ he _ really love  _ her _ ? 

She hates doing this, but once it starts, the avalanche of insecurities is difficult to stop.

He clearly asked her to return to him no matter what, but their relationship is the last thing from “family”. He was never loving or kind or understanding. He pushed her every single day to train in martial arts to exhaustion. He openly declared he was doing it all so he could receive the benefits of having a Warrior as his daughter. Even if he did –does– love her… would he change his attitude? Would she, for that matter? What kind of family life does she expect to have when she returns, when the best thing she could say about it was “well, at least he didn’t beat me or starve me”? 

She clears the painful lump in her throat with a lumpier spoonful of porridge. Then, the last words he said to her come to mind: "Even if the whole world is your enemy, even if the whole world hates you… I am always by your side".

So far that has been the only thing that makes her go on, five years later, and if she begins to have second thoughts...

Fuck.

She manages to avoid tears with deep breaths, but she has lost the little appetite she had. She gets up and takes her half-full bowl to the kitchen when something catches her eye.

There is a large shadow in front of the sink on the far side of the empty kitchen, which she immediately recognizes as Bertholdt. He has his back to her and is humming a Marleyan folk song, fully concentrated on cleaning the piles of dirty dishes that are stacked to his left.

Annie had thought that after last night's events she would be extremely angry, or annoyed at the very least, the next time she saw Bertholdt. To her surprise, she is not.

The scene is picturesque, with warm sunlight spilling into the room from the windows and creating sharp contrasts of light and dark. His voice is just audible enough above the clinking of glasses and cutlery and splashing water, but his soft, deep voice carries well the simple tune.

Annie is almost halfway to the sink before realizing her body is moving on its own accord. She explains it off as nostalgia from the song.

No, scratch that. It's nostalgia and the fact that she wants him to explain himself. 

“Is it true? What they were saying yesterday?”

Bertholdt almost drops the bowl he is washing as Annie’s question breaks his own train of thought. His heart somehow manages to stop but also beats twice as fast as usual. He turns slowly, drying his hands on his apron, and gives her an awkward smile.

“Um– Hi, Annie… Wh-what do...?” he starts. 

_ ‘What do you want him to explain? That thing from last night was clearly not something he wanted to happen’ _ , her mind says but she is already there so she may as well… 

Well, at least know where this is all coming from, and if it’s true or not.

“Are you in love with me?”

“Y-yes!” he blurts out, surprising both of them.

_ ‘Oh.’  _

Annie’s eyes go wide as she is caught off-guard, then quickly drops her gaze to the floor. She is not prepared for such a blunt answer. Time goes by painfully slow due to the adrenaline rushing through their bodies.

“Why?” she asks with genuine curiosity after several moments of silence. She lifts her face to look at him, and he is bright red from his neck to the tips of his ears, and partially covers his mouth with a hand, mortified. The sight of him blushing makes Annie’s own ears turn hot, much to her annoyance.

Annie has always avoided people; it's natural in her. In addition to that tendency, for years she has taken further steps in cultivating an uncaring and unlikeable persona.

It isn’t exactly ‘hard work’. Not caring about others is in many ways easier, and as soon as you establish yourself as such, most people will reciprocate in kind. Yet, despite her efforts, there are people who think of themselves as her friends, people who like her, and then this tall-ass nerd who is apparently in love with her.

“I– Well, I don’t rea– I can’t really explain why,” stammers Bertholdt, and stops to gather his thoughts.

He returns to his initial position in the sink and focuses on scrubbing a plate.

“I have always thought you were very cool, back when we were training in Marley,” he begins, then pauses to rinse it and place it on the drying rack. “I… I wanted to be more like you and to become your friend.”

He takes a dirty dish from the pile and repeats the operation.

“Then, it just happened. I don’t know when, really. For years we have spent most of our time together and–”

“But  _ why _ ?” she interrupts him.

“Um...?”

“Or, rather,  _ what _ do you like? Objectively speaking, there is nothing particularly attractive about me, and I am not exactly friendly to you.”

Annie speaks as plainly as possible. She is not fishing for compliments, or trying to be humble; she just wants to understand what it is he sees in her.

Her own self-image is basic at the most. If asked to describe herself, she would go with ‘short’, ‘blonde’, ‘big nose’, ‘can kick ass’, and maybe ‘likes sweet things’, if she feels like oversharing. None of these are crush-worthy.

Bertholdt stops his cleaning duties and holds his hands underwater, inspecting the soap bubbles.

“I like everything about you,” he says simply after a while. “I’m sorry.”

Irritated, she scoffs. She doesn’t understand why he is apologizing. 

“As long as it doesn’t interfere with the mission, it’s all the same to me,” Annie asserts.

“Of course,” Bertholdt agrees in a hushed tone.

Neither of them says another word. Bertholdt resumes his kitchen clean-up duties; the sound of sloshing water and dishes clinking against each other fills the silence while Annie just stands there.

She considers leaving, given that the fruitless conversation is over, but her legs don’t move. She is oddly at ease, even calm, when the mood could have easily been more awkward and uncomfortable. Bertholdt has that effect on her —though she suspects her presence doesn’t have the same effect on him, given that his ears are red hot and his movements a bit stiffer than usual.

“So your shift partner ditched and left all the kitchen duty to you?”

“Um… yeah,” he admits sheepishly. “But his family lives in town, and I really wasn’t going to do anything and–”

“I'll help you” she declares, letting her defenses fall just a smidge. As a personal rule, she doesn't work extra or volunteer or help others out, especially considering she will get nothing in return. (She breaks this rule very often, though, but it’s not weird if she doesn't think very deeply about it.)

“N-no! I’m okay, I’m just about to finish,” Bertholdt stammers automatically, giving her a nervous smile. It is an earnest but dumb attempt at minimizing the importance of the five huge piles of dirty dishes waiting to be cleaned. Annie gives him an unamused look and he bites his lip, embarrassed.

She walks to the back of the kitchen to get an apron, then takes her place to Bertholdt’s right and rolls her sleeves. 

“You wash, I’ll rinse them and set them on the rack to dry,” she instructs him.

“But–,” he makes a weak protest, but is silenced by Annie’s glare.

He sets to work immediately, scrubbing the plates and then passing them to Annie so she can rinse them on the other tub of the sink.

“I don’t hate you,” she reassures him after a few minutes, turning her head so she can make eye contact. “And I don’t mind helping once in a while.”

Bertholdt smiles sweetly and looks down at the dishes, and Annie’s expression softens.

“Thank you, Annie."

She makes a big deal out of her part of the task to make it seem like she is too invested in the correct placement of wet dishes on the rack to answer him.

She has to admit they make a good team. He makes her feel at ease, but this is the first time she rationalizes it. 

For starters, he doesn’t force a conversation. Especially small talk, which Annie loathes and is often used as a crutch by people who are too uncomfortable with silence and want to fill the void desperately.

He is also quite smart and extremely proficient at almost every task; another good quality in what seems to be an ocean of people who are stubborn, clumsy, or just plain morons. The only downside, she reflects, is how poorly he thinks of himself and his abilities. Though Annie cannot really fault him, given how she also downplays her own interest and proficiency in martial arts. What a bunch of fuck-ups.

Their hands brush for a second and he jumps like a cat seeing a cucumber, screaming "I'm so-so-sorry thank you very much it was an accident!"

His face is red and he holds his hand in front of him, as if it had been burned.

Annie suppresses a snort, resulting in a mouse-like squeak and rolls her eyes to conceal her amusement.

"Just get over here. I want to finish this quickly," she states.

"Y-yes. Sorry," he apologizes quietly, taking his place once again in front of the sink and being extremely aware of her body beside his.

The kitchen is squeaky-clean after an hour of hard labor from Bertholdt and just labor from Annie.

“Well, we’re done,” Annie announces as she drops her apron in the pile of dirty napkins, rags, and other linens.

She makes her way to the door to avoid Bertholdt’s forthcoming attempts at thanking her, but pauses just before exiting.

“Just don’t go around announcing it to the others,” she says. “About you liking me.”

“S-sorry! It won’t happen again. That was–”

“Reiner,” she completes his sentence and he nods. “I figured. I don’t know what he’s up to, but I don’t like it.”

With that, she leaves the kitchen without turning back.

\- 2 -

Later in the month, Annie and Bertholdt are assigned together to night patrol duty. There is a strange aura of excitement among the girls, who expect progress in the  _ relationship _ . Annie considers switching days with Mina but ultimately decides against it. This was a good chance to talk about the imperative issue of Reiner slipping away more often and for longer periods of time, and what that could mean for the mission. Plus, the thought of taking extra steps just to avoid Bertholdt so people wouldn’t talk pissed her off.

They meet just before 10:00 p.m. in front of the main watchtower, which is the place they will return to after their patrol is over and will be relayed by the next trainees on duty around midnight.

They stand in silence, and a sudden cold wind blows, making both of them turn the other way to shield their faces. It is unusual, as the training grounds are well-protected by the elevated rock walls that act as a reminder of the Walls. Fortunately, there would be less and less of those bursts of cold air now that spring is in full bloom and the nights are getting warmer; night patrol during winter is torture.

“Thank goodness spring is in full bloom and the nights are getting warmer. Night patrol during winter is torture,” Bertholdt points out. He scratches the back of his neck, hoping his attempt at small talk is not outright rejected (but it is).

He has no time to be embarrassed, as in that moment two cadets run to them hand-in-hand. Bertholdt recognizes Nac, who has always reminded him a bit of Marcel, and a round-faced girl he doesn’t know. Nac has both oil lamps in his free hand and quickly hands them over.

“All in order, guys,” he says, not even bothering to look at them as all his attention is on this girl. She giggles and gives Annie a knowing smile before turning back to Nac. They dash in the direction of the barracks, and soon the sound of their footsteps disappears completely. 

“Let’s go,” Annie instructs, and Bertholdt complies.

The patrol circuit is pretty straightforward: first the perimeter of the plateaus, then they make their way down to the stables, barracks, bathrooms, mess hall, infirmary, and administrative buildings. Then repeat it twice. The whole thing takes about two hours give or take.

They both walk up the path that leads to the plateau where horse training takes place and it takes them a few moments to adjust their gait to match the other.

Annie is shorter than average, and Bertholdt is taller than average, so they have to find a middle ground to the length and timing of their strides. Otherwise, they’d keep having to slow down or catch up every few seconds. The size difference can be a real drag.

She gives him a sideways glance and observes his body —everything except the ridiculous height, she has had enough of  _ that _ being shoved in her face at every turn.

Annie tends to look at legs due to her interest in martial arts and can appreciate muscular, well-defined thighs and calves. Most males around her age are too stringy, though, so she has definitely noticed Bertholdt’s strong legs. Reiner is another exception, but she’d rather kill herself than think about Reiner’s body or face in  _ that _ way.

In any case, what really takes her off-guard is the broadness of his shoulders, giving him a decidedly masculine silhouette. It’s not bulky, unlike Reiner’s—DAMN IT— unlike  _ other _ cadets like Franz, but also not really wiry or lanky.

While it was common to see her fellow Warriors shirtless while they were refugees, it hadn’t happened for some years. She is certain their bodies have matured, just like hers has, but the maleness still represents a certain sort of mystery to her. How much muscle? She has her fair share, but the muscular definition is different between the sexes due to fat distribution. She had grown hair on her legs and underarms and pubic area, but guys surely had more of it. Had they already grown hair on their chests? Elsewhere?

Annie gives another furtive glance in his direction, but he is already looking at her and their eyes meet. Bertholdt blushes and turns to look ahead, unconsciously walking faster and taking bigger steps so that Annie is left walking a few meters behind him.

She wants to ask him what he was looking at, but it will sound confrontational and what was the point? She already knows he is in love with her. 

Annie makes a small attempt to catch up, but her attention is drawn to the way his ass moves as he walks. She can’t say if it’s a nice butt, or big, or flat, or whatever. It’s not the butt itself but rather the motion of sinew and muscle and how they tense and relax in a steady rhythm, particularly due to the effort of walking uphill.

She moves her line of vision upwards and can appreciate the same from the swing in his arms and the slight bend to his elbows. Their uniform jacket is not as fitted as their britches, so it’s not as eye-catching, but she finds herself imagining him in just his gray shirt. Laying down, stretching in a way that makes the fabric of his shirt cling to him, the lower hem slightly bunched up to reveal a sliver of tan skin and a defined oblique muscle.

When she realizes what she is thinking, she shakes her head to clear it. ‘ _ What was that about _ ?’

As they reach the upper flat expanse, they immediately proceed to do the top circuit without a hitch and without a word and then go back down the other way. 

Annie tries hard to just. Stop. Thinking. But she finds that it’s not possible at the moment. Her mind is already conjuring up compromising scenarios and it’s all Bertholdt’s fault because if he had just said he didn’t like her she wouldn’t be thinking about pushing him down to take off his shirt and jacket.

And it’s not going to happen, of course, but it still makes her uncharacteristically self-conscious.

They make their way into the first horse stables, all pitch black inside except for their oil lamps and whatever moonlight manages to sneak in. The smell of horsehair, hay, and manure are thick, but not entirely unpleasant. There is a whinny and several snorts from different directions from the horses, who quickly go back to sleep or minding their own business after deciding they are in no danger.

Annie and Bertholdt hold their lamps into each pen to inspect them, making sure not to disturb the animals too much. They had all been taught that horses make it very obvious if there is anything out of order in the stables by making a ruckus, so patrolling the stables is mostly protocol. If they are calm, just check briefly as a routine procedure and do not disturb them further.

As they reach the end of the stable, they pivot and walk back to the entrance. They are almost out when Annie stops and shines her lantern into an open pen without a horse, containing only a short stack of hay.

Bertholdt circles back when he realizes Annie is no longer beside him.

"What is it?" he whispers, half-expecting Annie to shush him.

Annie looks at him and extends her free hand, motioning for him to give her his lamp. He is a bit confused as nothing seems to be wrong, but doesn't hesitate and hands her his lamp.

She tilts her head and nods toward the haystack, a silent command for him to step forward into the pen. He raises his eyebrows, the curiosity in him growing exponentially. She seems calm, so perhaps it's something like a rabbit or a fox?

Bertholdt takes a step forward and examines the bunch of hay to identify whatever it is she saw. It takes all of five seconds for Annie to lower the intensity of the flame in each lamp, then carefully place both of them on the floor inside the pen, and push her comrade down onto the haystack.

Thanks to his training, he is able to spin around and land with his back to the hay with a surprised yelp. His eyes are wide as they find Annie's own, half-lidded and betraying nothing. He is taken aback but finds himself unable to look away from the deep blue of her orbs.

The horses around the stable protest the sudden noise, but calm down almost immediately. 

When it is quiet again, Annie breaks the eye contact and moves forward, placing her feet on either side of his hips. Bertholdt's mind, which had been blank with confusion just a fraction of a second ago, is now in overdrive, very aware of the implications of Annie's actions and current position.

He tries to say something, which comes out as a whining squawk. Annie's mouth twitches into the tiniest of smirks. He tries again, blushing furiously.

"A-Annie... um... Wha-?"

Before he can formulate the question, Annie sinks to her knees, taking a sitting position on his lap but not too close to his chest.

"Oh...!" he exclaims in a wobbly voice.

"Keep quiet," she says simply and tugs at the bottom of his shirt, untucking it. She slides her right hand inside, placing a flat palm to his belly, and he slightly flinches as if her touch had burnt him.

With her other hand, she unbuckles the top belt that is strapped across his pectorals. When it is finally unbound, she moves that hand under his shirt and places it on his side, slowly feeling her way upwards. Bertholdt's eyes roll and his eyelids flutter as his breath catches mid-moan.

Annie's core is pulsing. Something a little like giddiness creeps inside her. His reactions to her touch are everything she didn't know she wanted (from him? from a boy? from anyone who would allow it?)

"Mmm... Annie, wha—?"

"If you speak, I will stop," she warns him.

Confusion is written all over his blushing face, but at the mention of the possibility of whatever-this-was stopping, he looks a little panicked and shakes his head no.

Annie proceeds to run her small hands on his abdomen, which is firm and very defined but also surprisingly soft to the touch. More hair than she expected, too, especially below his belly button.

Bertholdt's breathing grows heavier as she explores him, his gasps cut short before they can become moans. He alternates between licking his lips nervously and biting them to mitigate the sounds he is bound to produce.

His skin is now hot and slightly sticky with sweat, and he wants to apologize for it, but can’t find the words.

Their gazes meet as she brushes his nipple with the tips of her fingers, and he throws his head back with an audible groan and a definite thrust of his hips upward.

Annie raises her eyebrows, satisfied at her new discovery, but also to remind him of her condition of silence.

His eyebrows knit together in apology, and he looks helpless and handsome, something Annie is shocked to discover. His dark hair, which had been tousled from the windy night, falls on his forehead framing his eyebrows and expressive green eyes with uncharacteristic delicateness. His face is all red and slightly shiny due to the sweat, but in the dim light of the oil lamp it gives him a luminous allure.

She resumes circling his nipples and teasing them to hardness, and her mouth begins to water.

Bertholdt's whimpers start quietly, but grow loudly as his body undulates trying to get closer to the source of the ministrations.

"Annie, please...," he begs, not sure exactly what he is begging for.

Annie stops and for a moment Bertholdt panics and tries to sputter out an apology, a promise to never do it again, an oath to be hers forever. It takes him a few seconds to realize he can't actually speak because she has covered his mouth with her hand.

With only one free hand, she has to move closer to him to balance her weight and she feels him hard and eager and straining against the light-colored fabric of his britches. This time, it is Annie who has to suppress an exclamation of pleasure as their cores briefly rub together over their clothes.

After a few minutes, the single-handed exploration proves to be more complicated than expected, taking into account the considerable height difference. Annie shifts her weight often, as her shorter legs can't comfortably be placed on either side of Bertholdt's muscular thighs. It is an awkward half-kneeling, half-sitting position. She could just decide to let all of her weight fall onto his lap, but then it would be almost impossible to avoid grinding down on him hard, and she wants to keep the current state of affairs going on a little longer.

He hasn't once attempted to take control of the situation, or even touch her, which makes her feel powerful but with the conviction to make him feel more, to make his whole body wild with need for her.

She continues shifting her body on his lap, but with a measured restraint so that a few, strategic grazes to his clothed erection enhance the number she is doing on his chest.

Annie slows down and bends her index finger to tentatively push it gently between Bertholdt's lips. He immediately gives her access and shyly presses the tip of his tongue against the finger pad.

That simple contact with his warm, wet tongue sets free a million butterflies within her stomach. She feels like she is burning from her knees up, a heat that crashes in upward waves. Most surprising of all is the dizziness —as if she had been knocked in the head— and tunnel vision, all black around the edges. She can only see Bertholdt, his eyes closed, circling her finger with his tongue.

Annie pulls her hand away slowly, a fine thread of saliva joining Bertholdt's mouth and her finger. He contemplates her with half-lidded eyes, in the threshold of a fever-induced dream where reality’s margins are not well-defined. His lips are slightly parted, extending an unassuming invitation that Annie accepts.

She closes the distance between their faces by leaning forward and pinning Bertholdt, who sinks even more into the haystack.

She scoots forward on his lap with a few decisive rocks of her pelvis, until she feels settled on top of his hard-on. Bertholdt takes a deep breath to ground himself, but before he can produce any moan or guttural sound, she kisses him.

The breath he had been holding comes out in short, choppy bursts through his nose, but aside from that, Bertholdt is still. Their lips are pressed together, but nothing is happening.

It is Annie’s turn to be alarmed.  _ Is this a mistake _ ?

One of the main reasons she is so apathetic is her fear of looking foolish, or of appearing to care too much. She can feel the tell-tale pinpricks of early panic in her skin. Has she been misinterpreting Bertholdt’s reactions all along? She moves back half a centimeter when Bertholdt’s arms wrap around her small frame and pulls her into a tight embrace.

He kisses her; a short, desperate kiss that catches her off-guard due to the sheer force that is applied to it. Then, he cups her face with his hands and gently pushes her away so that he is able to speak. His words are rushed and don’t make a lot of sense, so he alternates between kissing and talking.

“Annie, I– I mean, ‘ave wanted… for so long. I can’t–,” —and a kiss— “You’re so– I just–” —kiss on the left cheek, kiss on the right cheek— “I don’t... I can’t...”

Annie places her hands on his face, mirroring his earlier move, so he can stop yammering. It is endearing in the situation, she has to admit, and very on-brand for him, but it will take forever for him to get to the point. She holds his gaze and her mouth has the tiniest hint of a smile. It is not a sweet smile, but he melts into her as she kisses him.

Her experience with any of this is negligible, though she feels calm knowing her lack of skill will not be a hindrance to Bertholdt. He has more experience than her, and it shows after a little while when he collects himself. Bertholdt and Reiner, if not a couple, had definitely experimented with each other, though Annie isn’t sure how far they ever went.

This thought annoys Annie. She doesn’t have the emotional intelligence to recognize the jealousy, though not necessarily of wanting Bertholdt to herself. It had more to do with the envy of them having something and her being left out again, all by herself.

She pushes the feelings away by picking up the pace, pressing her lips harder against his, and attempting to use her tongue in the mix. She is desperate and eager, taking in all of these new sensations in her body for the first time. Bertholdt is marveled at her atypical enthusiasm, which can usually only be appreciated during hand-to-hand combat with her.

The parallel is made even more obvious as she rolls her hips in earnest against his, delivering it as if it were an attack.

He breaks the kiss to moan, and she takes his face roughly with a single hand, pressing down on his cheeks and pulling him back again into the kiss. It’s not hard enough to hurt him, but the assertiveness of her action drives him over the edge.

“Annie-stop, please, I–” he grabs her ass, his large hands digging into her clothed flesh. It seems at first it was an effort to stop her from rocking her hips, but it’s too late so he just pulls her tightly against him with a choked whimper escaping his lips.

His hips shoot forward again and again in a primal attempt to release his seed as deep as possible, but only finds the heavy-duty cotton of his britches. His tall body quivers and spasms, and he is overcome by an exhaustion so great he feels he could fall asleep that very second.

Annie's eyes are wide. "Did you just…?"

Bertholdt's face is now almost purple from his climax and the embarrassment thereof. Annie moves her hand to the front of his trousers, where a distinctive wet spot is expanding, but he grabs her wrist tightly to prevent her.

Almost offended but mostly surprised, she snatches her hand and glares at him. There are tears in the corners of his eyes and his expression is a mix of embarrassment and confusion. 

Something in her chest clenches and she feels awful.

“I…” she begins, unsure of what to say.

“Annie,” he calls her name softly. “What was…?”

“I’m sorry,” she says, and he reacts with a little shock. It’s not often that she has said those words to anyone.

“Sorry? Are you sorry we–?” he asks.

“No!” she quickly replies. “I thought… I mean, I thought you had hated it.”

He averts his eyes to the side, scratching the back of his neck shyly.

“I could never… I could never hate doing anything with you. Less of all that. But it was embarrassing in the last part.”

Annie nods to signal she understands his words, though she doesn’t really. She thinks if she were in his place, she’d like to climax as quickly as possible, but then again, maybe it’s different when you’re in love with the person you’re making out with. Which is not the case.

“Let’s go, we can continue the circuit. No one will be able to tell we only did two rounds instead of three,” she indicates as if she had not just made the young man cum his pants a minute ago.

She offers him her hand so that he can stand up. He takes it and shakily gets on his feet, then pats off the hay from his uniform. The bulge in his pants has reduced its size, she notices, then turns away quickly, ashamed at the things she is paying attention to.

“Annie…” Bertholdt calls as she has her back to him.

“Hmm?”

“What was that all about?”

“I don’t know,” she answers simply, because it is the truth.

“I…” he begins, then stops himself. 

“What?” she asks, getting a little impatient.

After a few seconds, he gathers the courage to ask, “May I hug you?”

Annie is caught off-guard by his petition, but after everything she made him go through tonight, she thinks it’s only fair to grant him that kindness.

She opens her arms in invitation and he all but dives in, his arms wrapping around her adoringly. He lets out a long, tremulous sigh, then bends down to bury his nose in her hair. 

The height and size difference places her face directly in front of his chest and, after settling into the embrace, she has to admit it feels very nice to be nestled into him.

There is a tightness inside of her own chest, but not in a bad way. It’s warm and light and for a brief second she thinks she may be developing feelings for Bertholdt, but she quickly dismisses the notion. She doesn’t like him in that way, they are barely friends, and she is just curious and overcome by the whole situation and the unplanned physical contact.

Despite repeating that in her head over and over, she clutches him tighter and doesn’t let go until a horse whinnies a minute later, making both of them jump. 

“We should go,” she says again. She takes her lamp from the floor and rushes outside, a shock of cold sobering her up after the drowsy warmth that had previously enveloped her. She has the overwhelming need to get away from the stables as quickly as possible; in a symbolic way, she is leaving the budding feelings she doesn’t want behind as well.


	4. Chapter 3 - Feelings or Otherwise, Magnified*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annie and Bertolt don't spend time together after their night patrol duty. After some minor adventures involving friends and shopping for cookie ingredients in the nearby town, they finally meet and one thing leads to another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, this chapter had a mind of its own and I had to rewrite it at least three times. I'm still not fully convinced but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ done > perfect.
> 
> Also! I updated the tags because there are a few new scenes that weren't in my original outline, so please review them in case you may not want to read that type of stuff.
> 
> Also also! This chapter is very explicit, so proceed with caution.

\- 1 - 

The next day, Bertholdt and Annie wake up in their respective beds with the heavy feeling of dread in the pit of their stomach. It is still early, but their bodies are so used to waking up at the crack of dawn it comes naturally. After the first few seconds of groggy disorientation, the memories of the previous night come crashing down on them, and they bury their faces in their hands in profound embarrassment. 

After they had collected themselves from their hay-rolling activities, they completed the rest of the patrol in absolute silence. At midnight, the next cadets on duty were already waiting for them at the base of the watchtower; Annie confirmed everything was in order and they handed over their lamps, walking briskly in the direction of the barracks.

They were only a few meters away when Bertholdt started to shake a little, and then blurted out a flustered soliloquy about how he was concerned she didn’t get to orgasm and offered to “lend a hand —or whatever! It doesn’t have to be my hand, if you want me to use something else that would be fine with me, too…”

Annie had answered with an “Okay, cool” and made her way to the girls’ barracks. She distinctly remembers having looked at the cringy trainwreck from above and in slow motion, like some sort of out-of-body experience due to the shock of Bertholdt’s uncharacteristic boldness.

Upon arrival, she had collapsed right onto her bed without taking off her uniform and gone straight to sleep. She hadn’t fully processed the implications until now, and damn it all, her body-awareness is flaring up, particularly under her waist. She presses her thighs together to alleviate some of the frustration building inside her.

Bertholdt, on the other hand, had suffered the pain of his humiliation heavy in his heart since the night before. After getting to the barracks, he changed into his nightwear only to sneak into the communal showers and wash his trousers stealthily, then tossed and turned for hours until he finally fell asleep. The brief respite of slumber has ended, though, and the shame is back with a vengeance. He wonders if it’s possible to die from embarrassment.

While they lay in their beds sulking, the world around them is abuzz with the usual early-morning activities. People are dressing and undressing, running in and out of the rooms, and looking for someone or for something before the 7:00 a.m. roll call. 

After a few minutes, they are nudged out of bed by their friends Mina and Reiner, who are requesting an itemized list of whatever-happened-last-night.

Bertholdt is pestered by Reiner all the way to the mess hall. Annie is given a piece of bread and an apple from Mina, who had noticed her friend did not even take off her boots for sleeping and decided to make her morning easier.

“I thought you may not want to go to the mess hall, but you need to eat properly, Annie. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” Mina recites with concern in her voice.

Annie takes them and eats slowly. Mina smiles at her, satisfied that her friend is not rebuking her worries, and continues with her monologue. “It’s too bad that nothing happened with you and Bertholdt, but someone did get lucky! Did you see Lillian and Nac last night?”

She nods silently, remembering how the aforementioned cadets were all over each other, hand-in-hand.

“Oh, my goodness. They are officially boyfriend and girlfriend! I  _ had _ noticed, you know, how they had been flirting so much these past few weeks and they kissed last night! And now they’re together!” she exclaims, overjoyed.

Mina is quite the romantic and is energized whenever there are mentions of couples, kisses, hand-holding, or even the mere suspicion of a crush. Annie has observed that despite the girl’s penchant for romance and its derivatives, she herself doesn’t hold special feelings for anyone in particular. Mina is in love with love.

“Here, let me comb your hair,” Mina offers. Her excitement over the new couple has rendered her incapable of standing still and is looking for something to do.

Annie doesn’t protest, all of her focus on the red-and-yellow-striped apple. Mina climbs on the bed and moves behind her friend, then unties the messy bun, and proceeds to comb it carefully.

“Your hair is so pretty, Annie!” she gushes. “I know you like to keep things simple, but if you ever want a change, I can braid it for you. You’d look very cute.”

“Mmhmm,” Annie hums an obligatory thank-you while chewing. She has no intention of ever asking that specific favor from her, but she can appreciate the kindness in the proposal.

You’re so lucky your hair is so fine it doesn’t tangle. Mine is a nightmare…” Mina continues, and Annie kind of tunes out, half-listening and half-relaxing at the gentle feeling of the comb against her scalp.

She wonders if it’s okay for her to do this; to be normal and to stop thinking three hundred steps ahead; to stop thinking about everything in terms of how much pain it will bring and instead just living the moment.

She convinces herself it’s fine just this once because she’s  _ aware _ of what’s happening. She can stop it when she wants.

So Annie lets herself drown in the unremarkable act of two friends chatting, eating an apple, combing their hair, and letting the world pass them by.

\- 2 - 

Bertholdt and Reiner sit at a table in the mess hall with their respective bread, cheese, and suspiciously lumpy stew breakfast. From an outsider’s perspective, it looks like the usual early bird routine for the two guys, but Reiner is unusually angry and quiet. He had been badgering Bertholdt all morning because  _ ‘something  _ **_must_ ** _ have happened’ _ , but no one else was interested anymore since Nac and Lillian were now the talk of the Training Corps. Without the pressure of the other trainees, Bertholdt had managed to avoid even talking about it, which irritated Reiner to the point of silence. 

“Morning, guys!” Sasha greets them cheerfully and places down her plate and mug of milk to join their table. Connie, Jean, and Marco are right behind her and soon the table is lively again.

“What are you planning on doing on Sunday?” Connie asks Bertholdt and Reiner. 

“Ahhh!!!” Sasha screams and everyone in the table (and neighboring tables) turns to look at her. “Waitwaitwait, before you say anything, do you guys want to go shopping in town this Sunday? I can’t carry all of the bags and I need help…!”

“No fair, Sasha! I wanted to invite them to play football!” Connie protests.

“Football?” Bertholdt asks, confused. Football, baseball, and any other sort of organized team sports are not known in Paradis, so the mention of it catches him off-guard.

“Yeah! Reiner taught us how to play the other day. You only need a ball —or anything that can roll, really— and then you kick it with your feet!  _ Foot _ - _ ball _ !”

“It seemed dumb at first, but it’s actually pretty awesome,” Jean admits, only because he has proven to be particularly adept at it.

“I haven’t played it myself, but I’m intrigued as Jean won’t stop talking about it,” Marco says.

“When did you guys play?” Bertholdt asks. He feels like he spends all of his time with Reiner, so he should at least know about this.

“It was the day you and I helped Armin tutor Sasha,” Marco explains to Bertholdt, who nods as he remembers the excruciating experience of having to teach mathematics to Sasha. Reiner had said he had a headache and would be going to the dorms to lay down for a bit, but apparently it had ended up quite differently than what he imagined.

“Nononono, I’m begging here! Please, guys!” Sasha implores.

“Sorry, Sasha. I have to be there to explain the rules properly,” Reiner quickly excuses himself, shrugging. Connie raises his hand across the table to give Reiner a high-five, and he answers it good-naturedly. It is a vision of true male friendship.

Sasha immediately lunges across the table and takes Bertholdt’s hands in hers, catching him by surprise. 

“Bertholdt, please!” she exclaims with a dramatic expression on her face. “You’re a good guy! I know you always lend a hand to people who need it.”

He nervously glances around. Everyone is looking at him expectantly except for Reiner, who seems concentrated on a vague point in the distance to highlight his lack of interest in Bertholdt’s decision. Bertholdt feels uncomfortably hot, and just to get things moving (and unable to say  _ ‘no’ _ ) he accepts with a helpless smile. “Sure, why not?”

“Yaaay!” Sasha cheers, letting go immediately of his hands. “Krista! Ymir! Bertholdt is coming with us shopping on Sunday!”

“Yay, Bertholdt!” Krista chirps from the other side of the mess hall.

Reiner’s face immediately changes to one of betrayed shock. “Krista is going too?! You said you were going alone.” 

“What? Of course not. It’s just that Ymir is making  _ me _ carry all of the shopping, that’s why I need help.” She sadly recounts how she was tricked into agreeing to this for an extra hard-boiled egg and a piece of bread.

By the time she is done talking and Reiner shakes off his somber expression, Krista and Ymir have made their way to their table.

“It will be so much fun,” the Goddess of the 104th Training Corps assures them. “You guys don’t wanna come? The more the merrier!”

“I–,” begins Reiner, but Connie stops him short. “Sorry, Krista, no can do. These guys and I will be doing some major ass-kicking in football!”

“Oh, well. Maybe next time,” she says kindly, but with an expression that makes it clear she has no idea what football is. Then, she places a hand on Bertholdt’s shoulder and gives him a bright smile. “See you on Sunday, Bertholdt!”

Reiner’s eyes bulge at the contact between the two. Ymir gives him a derisive smile and places her arm around Krista’s waist, leading her away.

“Hey, guys…” Reiner says quietly, but Jean and Connie cut him off. “No, way, Reiner. You promised! We can’t play without you!”

He clenches his fists and sighs, resigned. “Fine. Let’s play football.”

\- 3 - 

As Sunday rolls in, things have mellowed between Reiner and Bertholdt. Despite this, Reiner leaves very early with a rather large group of noisy and excited boys without saying a word to his friend. They gather outside, and while Bertholdt dresses up he can hear the distinctive pitch of Eren whining.

“Dammit, Mikasa! Can’t I just have one thing to myself?”

“No.”

Bertholdt considers bailing at the last minute due to concern for Reiner’s actions and the panic of having to be around people he doesn’t know very well. It’s not possible, though, as Sasha calls him from the hallway.

“Hey, Bertholdt! Are you there? I’m not coming in, in case you’re indecent, just let me know so I can wait outside.”

“N-no! I’m coming,” Bertholdt replies uneasily as some of the remaining cadets in the dorm snicker. He pockets the small allowance each trainee is granted every month and quickly goes out, slightly flustered at Sasha’s politely-worded indiscretion.

She smiles and greets him, then they go to the girls’ barracks to wait for Krista and Ymir.

While it is okay for the girls to go inside the boys’ barracks, so long as it’s within curfew and they don’t actually go into the dorm rooms, the opposite is not true. The only time boys can go inside the girls’ barracks would be in the case of an emergency. It is very loosely-enforced, though, so someone who really wanted to sneak in could do it without much problem or fear of being reported just for being there.

The girls take a couple of minutes but they finally come out carrying a few market bags made of cloth.

“Good morning, friends!” Krista greets them cheerfully, while Ymir nods in acknowledgment.

“Okay, we have to move early because the Sunday market can get really crowded,” Krista explains as she intends to lay out her plan. “We’re going to buy some ingredients for–”

“Hey!”

They all turn to the window of the raised building, where Annie’s head is poking from. Her eyes are squinting, obviously unaccustomed to the bright morning sun, so she can’t see who is actually making the racket.

“Shut up! People are sleeping, for fuck’s sake!” she groans with exhaustion.

“Sorry, Annie,” Sasha says. “We’re just–”

Annie closes the wooden window with a loud bang, not waiting for an explanation or an apology. Ymir clicks her tongue in irritation while the rest of them stand staring at the window, dumbfounded.

“Someone needs to teach that girl a lesson,” she begins dangerously, but Krista tugs her sleeve.

“Let’s go, Ymir! Just leave her alone. She must be really tired.”

Ymir rolls her eyes at Krista’s consideration but lets herself be swayed by the tiny girl.

The four cadets make their way up the path to the plateau. From there, it takes them about a half-hour walk to the nearest main road, where they hitchhike with a farmer and his wife, Mr. and Mrs. Bauer.

Out here, hitchhiking is the most common way of getting into town. If there is a special event or a large enough group, they can request permission to use the horses or the military wagons, but it has to be well in advance.

They climb on the back of the large cart, which is filled with fresh produce, and sit on the available space. Bertholdt is nervous at first, as he does not often part ways with Reiner to spend time with the other trainees. 

As time goes on, he feels more and more comfortable with the trio of girls. Sasha is upbeat and energetic, and her antics are foiled by Ymir’s smart and sarcastic counters. Krista provides a much-needed neutral ground so that it all remains as teasing fun and not outright Sasha-bullying. The farmers laugh affably at their conversation and occasionally comment. Having lived in the area all of their lives, they know almost everything there is to know about life in and around the town.

“Hey, kids. We’re almost there,” the farmer announces.

At this, Krista explains the purpose of the trip and an action plan. She wants to bake cookies for everyone to celebrate that the exams are finally over. 

“Coo-cookies?!” Sasha exclaims, starry-eyed. “A goddess…!”

“You can’t even cook, Krista. I’m gonna end up doing all the work,” Ymir teases, and Krista headbutts her, blushing.

“As I was saying, we are going to need flour, butter, sugar, and eggs.”

“You’re going to want to get the eggs first, kids,” Mr. Bauer says. “With the May Day coming up, they are harder and harder to find these days since the Inner-Wallers are demanding more supplies for their celebrations.”

“And the butter should be last, or you’ll risk having it half-melted before returning,” says Mrs. Bauer. “You can order it in the creamery and pay for it, and pick it up just before leaving.”

“That’s a good idea, missus,” Krista agrees.

In the end, they agree to divide into two groups: Bertholdt and Krista would go for the flour and sugar since they were the heaviest, and if they somehow got separated Bertholdt could be easily spotted and/or use his height to look for Krista. Ymir and Sasha would find the eggs and butter.

“I don’t like it, but neither of you softies is capable of keeping Sasha from wandering around and out of trouble,” Ymir remarks, looking at Bertholdt and Krista reprovingly.

Once they arrive at the edge of the market —which was indeed more crowded than usual— they get off the cart and thank their benefactors, then hurry in opposite directions. Ymir screams “You better take good care of my cute Krista, or I will hurt you!” at Bertholdt, then grabs Sasha by the collar and drags her off to their small quest.

Bertholdt is surprised at Krista’s speed. She is tiny, but this means she can scurry and weave her way through the sea of people with surprising ease. He has to move awkwardly to keep up with her, bumping into people and giving away what seems an endless flow of  _ ‘sorry’s _ and  _ ‘pardon me’ _ s. It’s one of the advantages of being so small, he thinks.

He can’t help compare her to Annie. Apart from their height and hair color, they don’t have much in common. Krista has this air of fragile optimism that —he guesses— is what makes her popular. Like a kitten you want to protect. Annie, on the other hand… She is catlike, in a way, but less like a kitten and more like a stray that hangs around the house once in a while. She is strong, collected, and doesn’t follow anyone around. His heart beats a little faster thinking about Annie. He’d love for her to be here, but she would probably hate being surrounded by so many people. 

After a few minutes, Krista stops and points at a bakery with a considerable crowd around it, trying to get in. “It’s there, Bertholdt!”

“Where is the end of the queue?” he asks, looking around to make sense of the congregation, which doesn’t seem to have an order to it.

“Stand in line? No, we have to push our way inside,” Krista explains. When she sees the horror in Bertholdt’s face, she tugs at his sleeve and says. “Wait for me here, I’ll go.”

“What? No, Krista, I–” Bertholdt protests, but she squeezes herself between two older ladies and disappears from sight. Ymir is going to kill him.

He waits for her outside, not allowing himself to get lost in thought in case he needs to act quickly. After about twenty minutes, he feels something grab his ankle. He jumps in surprise to find Krista crawling and smiling at him, a small sack of flour on one shoulder and a shopping bag on the other.

“L-let me help you with that!” he says crouching down. He takes the 10-kilo sack of flour from her and gives her his hand to help her to her feet. Then she pats the front of her skirt to dust it.

“That was fast,” Bertholdt comments. “Did you… did you cut in line?”

Krista places her hands on her hips playfully before answering. “I told you, here it’s every person for themselves. There is no such thing as standing in line. The person behind you will scream their way inside so they can get the shop assistants’ attention before you.”

_ ‘Paradisians are savages,’ _ he thinks to himself, then suppresses the thought. Even after years of living among them and understanding they are just humans, the indoctrination received in Marley still comes up unexpectedly at times like this. 

Krista tugs his sleeve and smiles sweetly at him, and the guilt of his previous thought hangs heavily on him.

“Oh, yeah. Sugar” he says.

“Let’s move on.”

Although the list of ingredients is very short, it takes them about four hours to finally meet up. Ymir and Sasha have their own little adventure after Sasha gets distracted by the very expensive charcuterie shop and leaves their bag of eggs unattended for a moment, and someone takes it by mistake.

“Ymir was going to kill me,” Sasha narrates and shudders at the memory of Ymir’s murderface.

“It’s a good thing we managed to track down that old lady or I would have made you give me all of your money.”

“I know!” Sasha cries. “I saved my allowance for months and even asked Connie to lend me money and still this is all I could buy.” She shows them a dry sausage about as long as her hand. “It would have been a bigger tragedy if I had no money left.”

“The real tragedy was having to listen to Sasha whine about  _ meat _ and  _ sausages _ all damn day,” Ymir taunts and laughs at her own joke.

“Ymir!” Krista reprimands her. “Don’t be so crude.”

Ymir wraps one arm around Krista and pulls her close.

“You’re gonna have to marry me and be my wife if you want me to be a better woman,” Ymir posits and wiggles her eyebrows.

Krista elbows her, not too hard, and Ymir releases her. “I can’t be anyone’s wife until I prove myself by making the cookies,” she declares. “Let’s go back to the training camp.”

Ymir gives her a look. “Krista, while I appreciate your eagerness to be my wife ASAP, it’s only noon. That lady literally told us the butter will melt in the sun. We have to wait for the sun to go down a little or get a ride from a wagon with a canopy.

“Oh… Yeah, you’re right.”

The group walks to the edge of town and sits down beneath a tree to wait for a vehicle going in the direction of the camp.

Krista produces two small loaves of bread and cheese from a shopping bag, and they all share a light lunch. With much pain, Sasha offers half of her dry sausage for everyone to share, but Bertholdt, Ymir, and Krista refuse it, saying she should save it for a special occasion.

“You guys,” Sasha says, tearfully. “Thank you…”

They spend a couple of hours conversing comfortably. Bertholdt realizes he is not only at ease, but actually enjoying the pastoral scene unfolding around him. He can’t forget completely about Eldian demons and being a Warrior and the mission, but he can put the thoughts aside just enough to feel the warm embrace of camaraderie and friendship with the girls.

Krista goes out of her way to include the quiet Bertholdt in the conversation. She asks about his past (he has to lie or be vague about it), his interests, and his opinions, and requests his intervention as a mediator between the other two girls. Ymir is also chatty and cordial, and surprisingly not protective of Krista as she would have been if Reiner or other boys had been present. Sasha operates on a whole different level, driven by an instinct that makes her incredibly carefree one moment and jumpy as a baby deer on the next one. Still, her unique personality and openness make people relax and feel comfortable within the group. 

“Hey, kids! Want a ride?”

The farmer couple that had given them a ride in the morning is now returning home. The four cadets jump to their feet, greet them cheerfully, and climb into the cart with haste. The journey feels quicker because everyone is talking and laughing and having a good time.

“You girls have boyfriends? Our son, Alex, he’s still 12 but he’s gonna be a fine young man soon and I wouldn’t mind having one of you as our daughter-in-law,” the farmer says.

“Oh, my dear. Honestly,” the wife says with a reproving tone. “The lad here is probably the boyfriend of one of them.”

“N-no!” Bertholdt protests, but is cut off by Ymir.

“No, ma’am. This strapping fellow right here already has a sweetheart back at the camp,” she joshes, poking Bertholdt’s cheek.

“Aww, that’s nice,” the wife says with a benign smile. “Be sure to treat her right.”

“Y-yes… No! I mean–” he stutters.

“Yeah, treat her right. That girl needs a good smoochin’ so she stops being so grouchy,” Ymir says, throwing an arm over his shoulder in a sign of chumminess.

The farmer and his wife give a loud hoot of laughter and exclaim “Oh, my. Young people today are quite something!”

“Ymir, don’t tease him!” Krista chides.

“Don’t worry, Bertholdt and I are pals, right?” Ymir says and punches him playfully, but he doesn’t respond as he is too abashed to string a coherent sentence.

Soon, they arrive at the trail that leads to the camp. After profuse thank-yous from the cadets and more attempts to gain a daughter-in-law from the Bauers, the cart resumes its journey with an orangey-pink sky glowing above them.

Krista, Sasha, Ymir, and Bertholdt walk down the path in silence, somewhat tired from their outing. As they get to the edge of the plateau, they can see the boys still playing football on a makeshift field. Bertholdt, who can recognize Annie from far, far away, spots her running around the perimeter, no doubt coming from her usual route in the forest. Apart from the soldier training, she runs during the weekends to improve her stamina for the trips to the inner Wall. 

They make their way to the mess hall and kitchen building, and Krista signals them to drop off the ingredients in a preparation table.

“Everything is ready!” she declares in premature triumph.

“Oi, Krista. I’m going to take a shower–”

“No, Ymir! We are already here! We need to make them right now.”

Ymir rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. “No way.” 

Sasha and Bertholdt look at them nervously. “I… I think I should go,” Sasha mutters and slithers off.

“Yeah, me...,” Bertholdt starts, but Krista says “Wait!” He freezes.

“Ymir, wait for a second and I’ll convince you. Let me just…” she shoves an arm inside the cloth bag she had slung across her shoulder and takes out a slightly crumpled paper bag with a ribbon. “This is for you, Bertholdt!”

She presents it to him, and he takes it from her, confused. “Thanks. What is it?”

“It’s milk pie! As thanks for helping us carry the stuff today and being a good friend. We had a lot of fun!” Krista explains cheerfully.

“Oh!” he replies, surprised. He was certainly not expecting that. “I haven’t had milk pie in years,” he admits.

“Goody! Then you’ll love it, it’s from the bakery we got the flour from. It’s amazing.”

Bertholdt smiles at her, thanks her again, and leaves. He can hear Ymir’s complaints about  _ her _ not getting anything in return, and Krista arguing that what Ymir requests as payment is not on the table.

Once outside, he opens the folded bag and examines the contents. The slice of pie is sizable, about one-fourth of the whole thing, but it isn’t in very good shape, with crumbles pooling in the bottom. He breaks off a piece, bites, and savors it.

It was milk pie, alright, and after years of paltry Paradisian cuisine, it was downright one of the most decent things he had tasted since beginning the mission. It was not only the scarcity of food from the fall of the Wall, but the lack of available ingredients on the island due to their isolation from the world, as well as the climate.

In Marley, things like chocolate, vanilla beans, coffee, and cinnamon, among other spices, herbs, and fruits, are widely available thanks to the trade with nations whose climates were tropical and could grow them. Even the internment zone, with all it lacked, had a number of shops and restaurants that produced delicious baked goods far superior to probably even the fanciest shop in Mitras, the capital city of Paradis.

Still, the creamy but firm texture combined with the buttery crust is delightful in its own homely way. A memory of their training days comes through and the desire to share this with Annie grows within him.

He looks around to see if she is still running. Twilight provides enough illumination to identify her in the distance, and it seems like she is advancing in his direction. He walks towards her, and his stomach twists into a knot in anticipation.

When she is close enough to make eye contact, she sees the excited look in his eye and recognizes the intention of talking to her, so she stops. She greets him with a simple “Hey”, bending so that she can rest her hands on her knees and catch her breath.

She is all sweaty, and her hair is a mess, and her face is red and puffy from exertion, but to Bertholdt that only makes her more charming.

“Hi, Annie,” he says with a nervous smile. 

They hadn’t talked at all since the night of their patrol, so she is fairly surprised he is seeking her out by his own volition. She had been certain they would be avoiding each other until Reiner forced a mission meeting on them, and then they’d just pretend nothing had ever happened.

“Hi, Bertholdt. You seem happy,” she observes.

He can feel his cheeks heat up at her comment. “No, I just… Well, I did have fun today, but… Anyway, here!”

He presents the bag in front of her and she stares at him waiting for an explanation.

"The girls —Sasha and Krista and Ymir— well, we went to buy some things in the market, and it's milk pie. I wanted to share it with you."

Her expression softens and she takes the bag from his hands and peers inside. There is indeed a huge slice of milk pie and her mouth begins to water.

"Thanks," she says, unable to stop staring at the creamy filling topped with raisins. She doesn’t move and Bertholdt shuffles on his feet, unsure about what to do. He wants to tell her about how he remembers her enjoying a slice of milk pie from the bakery that was close to the training camp back in Liberio, but then what? Wouldn’t it just be a creepy way of pressuring her into eating the pie right now, just so he could see the face she would make?

“Um… so, I hope you like it. Sorry for interrupting you,” he says.

“I’m done,” she comments.

“Oh. Good.”

There is silence for a few moments, and Annie finally breaks it. “This is too big. Do you want to share it?”

Bertholdt nods enthusiastically. 

“Let’s just get out of here, find somewhere to sit down,” she says, eyeing the makeshift football field and the crowds cheering around it. No one is watching them, but she still prefers to be away from other people.

Annie walks and he follows her, and when they reach the far end of the mess hall building with the cellar door, she pushes herself onto a crate to sit and crosses her legs. There is another crate beside it, so he sits on that one, creating a respectable enough distance between them.

The area is pretty much deserted, except for the cats that roam around and keep the mice and rats away from the cellar, where food is stored. Bertholdt has the impression that Annie hangs around here by herself often, and his earlier inclination of comparing her to a cat solidifies.

She breaks off a piece of the pie, roughly half of it, and hands it over to Bertholdt. Then, she bites into her share. Her reaction is subdued, but there is a hum of appreciation after a few moments.

She shoves the rest of the pastry into her mouth messily and chews, then licks her fingers clean and pats the front of her hoodie to remove the crumbs. “Ish goo’,” she says with the pie still in her mouth, making her cheeks puff. “Shanksh.” 

He looks at her from the corner of his eye while eating his own, trying to be casual and to avoid making her uncomfortable, but can’t help smiling slightly. It has been a good day so far.

After swallowing the pie, Annie leans back on the wall and sighs with contentedness. That had really hit the spot after a good run, and now that the sun is setting and the atmosphere is cooler, she considers staying out here for a while. She closes her eyes and relaxes, but a shrill shriek is heard from the other side of the building’s wall.

“Gyaahh! Krista, what are you DOING?!”

“Ymir, help!”

And then a commotion: crash, slam, bang. Metal against wood, metal against stone, metal against metal.

“What’s going on in there?” Annie asks, annoyed.

“Krista wanted to make cookies for everyone to celebrate the end of the exams, but from what I gathered, she has very little cooking experience,” Bertholdt explains.

“Mmhmm,” Annie answers.

“Krista, move aside!  _ I’ll _ do it!”

Bertholdt slides to the edge of the crate and then leans sideways to peer into the other side of the building, half-expecting to see smoke coming out of the window. He is slightly concerned about the girls, and is about to get on his feet and have a look, but Annie places her hand over his. His heart gives a somersault, and he turns to look at her, confused.

“Those girls are flirting with each other. They do not want you to meddle,” Annie states flatly, as if it were the most obvious thing.

“Flirting?” he echoes, not really grasping what she is implying. He doesn’t know much about flirting, but he is pretty certain that trashing the kitchen is not usual behavior during courtship.

She looks at him with some amusement, as his brain seems to be connecting ideas and concepts together. She herself is no expert in the subject either, other than what she hears from late-night conversations in the girls’ barracks, but Bertholdt is too straightforward and sincere in his interactions that she cannot picture him flirting.

The far-away noises of the boys playing football grow closer. “Mikasa! Mikasa! Mikasa!” they chant and move inside the mess hall, where Krista and Ymir are working on the cookies. 

“It seems everyone has had a good day,” Annie observes.

“Yup,” Bertholdt replies.

“How did all this football business come to be?” she asks him.

“Oh… Reiner,” he says simply. His name seems to be enough of an answer lately.

Annie shrugs. Hating on Reiner is one of her top hobbies, but looking at Bertholdt’s sad face, she reckons it’s not the moment to bad mouth him. Her hand is still on his, and she interlaces her fingers with his own. She is incapable of saying anything to reassure him that things will somehow work out, so this is what she can give him right now.

They stay that way for quite some time, both of them feeling somewhat gloomy but serene at the same time. They are not alone. Their personalities and situations are neither perfect nor promising —both of them tend to be withdrawn and stoic, and are not very good at expressing themselves, and, despite knowing better, they keep ignoring their feelings with the hope that they will just disappear. Apart from that last delusion, both of them tend to be more realists –and therefore, pessimistic.

Reiner, on the other hand, is more optimistic and confident, which is why there is often a big gap between them. Annie and Bertholdt only want to get the mission over with and return home, while Reiner is getting everything he ever wanted here. He is everyone’s hero, everyone’s big brother, everyone’s leader of choice (except to them). Reliable, kind, strong, and empathetic (except to them).

Sometimes, it seems like Reiner has everything and they have nothing. Right now, though, they have each other.

Annie realizes she is squeezing Bertholdt’s hand, and she is suddenly punched in the gut by a vague but overwhelming awareness of his body next to hers. Her free hand moves up, and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She clears her throat with a cough.

"About the other day…" Annie begins.

Bertholdt blushes preemptively and swallows. "Y-yes…?"

She caresses the soft skin that joins Bertholdt's thumb and forefinger, something that feels extremely intimate at that moment.

"Annie, if you're okay with me, I'll–"

“Shh! Be careful~!"

Annie and Bertholdt snatch their hands back as a reflex. Nac and Lillian appear from around the corner of the building, giggling uncontrollably and tangled in an embrace so tight they can barely manage to walk straight. When they see Annie and Bertholdt, they straighten up slightly, but still hold hands.

"Sorry. Hope we're not interrupting anything," Lillian says with just a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

Bertholdt and Annie are just sitting side by side and look fairly innocent thanks to the darkness that hides their blushes. There is only so much they can tease out of them. 

Lillian eyes the cellar door, moves toward it, examining the heavy padlock and chains. 

"You need a key to the make-out room?" Annie asks dryly.

Lillian gives a little nervous laugh and replies with a hasty "No". She kicks the padlock and sighs, slightly defeated.

She goes back to Nac and tugs on his sleeve and they leave with a teasing "Don't stay up too late, kids".

Annie rolls her eyes. After the lovey-dovey couple fades into the dark, Annie reaches into her pocket and produces a key. Bertholdt stares, surprised.

"Is that…?"

"Last night she wouldn't shut up about how she had obtained the key to the cellar for making out, so I swiped it while she wasn't looking."

"Oh." He regards her with both admiration and a little fear.

"I figured I'd just hold on to it for now. Just in case we–," she says and pauses. "I mean, hay is just too itchy."

Bertholdt nods. At the time he hadn't minded the hay because he had been preoccupied with other  _ matters _ , but in the event of activities in which clothes were discarded, it would not be ideal… He stops that thought, flushing. Annie had planned this situation to some extent or at least had thought about it enough to keep the key with her. That is more than enough for him, much to Annie’s dismay. She had hoped that he would be the one to take steps into fulfilling his offer without her having to request it out loud, but it doesn’t seem he will.

Annie thinks about what she wants to say, chewing the inside of her cheek. She is slightly annoyed at this, but not necessarily angry. Is she expecting him to be the one to take the next step just because he is male, or just because she is too embarrassed? She is in the same boat as him when it comes to proactivity. She goes with the flow, though for different reasons and with different attitudes. In the end, isn't the result the same?

Waiting for someone to take responsibility for the decision. To be able to minimize the guilt or the shame or the pain because they are just following orders. It's easier to take the bitterness of defeat and the sting of humiliation when you are just doing as you're told instead of putting your very soul in the line for it. And it's not about make-outs anymore. She shakes her head to clear the nonsense, and Bertholdt looks at her with concern.

"Annie, is everything fine?"

She takes a deep breath and nods. In theory, she doesn't like Bertholdt in the same way he likes her. When she thinks about him, there are no nervous stomach flips or the uncontrollable smiles that girls always talk about. Now that they are together, though, him with his heart on his sleeve and just a quick dip away from a kiss, there is an unfamiliar turmoil within her.

“Let’s go inside,” she says and jumps off the crate.

For a second he thinks he means inside the mess hall to join the rowdy crowd of cadets recounting the feats of Mikasa and Jean in football, and he gets off his crate, but as he moves toward the corner of the building she grabs him by the sleeve and pulls him. 

He turns and observes her crouching above the cellar door, the padlock clicking open. Annie opens the door, then drags him with her down the stairs, and he is sure he has the stupidest look of confusion on his face.

“We need two,” she instructs him as she points to a collection of oil lamps sitting on a ledge in the entrance.

He lights them up with a box of matches that is in the same ledge, and it slowly dawns on him what they will be doing. Annie closes the door behind them and places the padlock on the inside handles. It is very improbable, given the hour, that anyone would try to enter the cellar but it gives her some extra peace of mind.

Bertholdt hands her one of the lamps he lit up and they explore the area briefly. It is filled with barrels, crates, boxes, and sacks of flour; conserves and pickled produce in glass jars; rows of shelves with aprons, tablecloths, napkins, linens, rope, and miscellaneous kitchen implements.

“So…” Annie says, getting his attention back.

He whirls around nervously to face her. The light produced by the oil lamps illuminates the surfaces in soft, warm tones and provides a contrast of long, deep shadows. Annie's face is glowing and expectant, and somehow, he finds the courage within himself to move closer. His heart beats furiously, and when he speaks, it feels like his voice is coming from the other side of the room.

"Wait a moment, please," he says and strides to the shelves. There are bedsheets neatly folded and stacked on top of one another, and he takes one from the bottom, considering those are probably less dusty.

He unfolds it and places it on top of some sacks of flours in the corner of the room that are arranged into even columns, providing a sort of platform that is conveniently about the same size and height as a bed.

While he does all of this, Bertholdt is having an internal debate. He wants to ask Annie a million questions because what is happening right now feels like a dream. Is she comfortable enough? Is there anything in particular she wants to experience? Is there a time limit? Most importantly, is it okay if it's with him?

Annie sits on the makeshift bed and glances up at him expectantly. He takes a seat next to her and places his hand on hers, but doesn’t make eye contact.

“Um… Is there any– I mean, do you want me to do… something in particular?” he asks.

“No,” she answers plainly.

“Oh, ok. Well, um… Maybe we can start with kissing? Just let me know if you want to stop or… you know,” he says. He wants to explain this is the first time he’d ever done this with a girl, but he has an idea of what to do. Thankfully, he doesn’t.

Bertholdt clears his throat and shifts so that his upper body is facing her. He closes his eyes and tilts his head toward her, and when their lips meet they both sigh softly. His hands hover nervously around her waist, not quite touching her.

Her nervousness manifests as impatience. She wants to take his hands and plant them on her waist, her hips, her breasts, her ass, but as he deepens the kiss with gentle determination, she allows herself to take his rhythm.

Bertholdt is not impulsive; he avoids taking risks and jumping into action without a plan. She knows it’s not because he’s weak —he has proven to be far too capable. With his natural attentiveness, he places first one hand and then the other on her waist, and an unexpected shiver runs down her spine. He leans over her slowly and lays her down, then places one arm below her neck as a pillow and places the other beside her to support his weight.

Having him on top of her feels unexpectedly amazing and it gives her a rush that borders on desperation. She wants more, but just how much more is not clear.

Bertholdt breaks the kiss and moves to her neck, placing his lips there and pressing them gently, then uses the tip of his tongue to trace a circle. Her whole body spasms and she gasps, caught between a bout of nervous laughter and a moan. She has no words to explain what is happening to her body, so she just lets it move by itself. It arches and seeks Bertholdt, and wants him on top of her, grinding; and beneath her, taking it; and inside of her, filling her to the brim; and around her with an embrace so big it could envelop and cover her completely and she’d forever be safe from the outside world.

She places a hand on his cheek and he stops, looking at her questioningly. She slides herself up, sitting against the wall, and in one swift motion takes off her hoodie and shirt, revealing her well-defined abs and bodice-covered breasts. 

The bodice is conscripted for every female in the military as it is a much better alternative to the usual wired and laced corsets civilians use in their day-to-day. The fabric is stretchy, yet sturdy enough to give adequate support; ideal for intense physical activity.

Annie is suddenly self-conscious as she detects the sharp smell of sweat from her earlier running session, but Bertholdt is so obviously entranced with the sight of her cleavage, her mind eases. She takes his hands and places each of them on her breasts. 

Apart from the initial shock of the contact, Bertholdt recovers quickly. His palms completely cover her clothed breasts, but with his usual gentleness he roams, presses, fondles, and holds them. 

He feels strangely emotional, but it’s only natural. During their time as refugees, Annie always wore Reiner and Bertholdt’s old clothes as they outgrew them, and the fit was baggy at best. Even with the military uniform, which is much tighter than the clothes any of them wore regularly, she manages to conceal her assets, so he had wondered every once in a while how she’d look without clothes.

He changes the exploration from full-palms to the tips of his fingers, and when he brushes her nipple she makes a sound that can only be described as a squeak. Both of them are taken aback by her expression, and she mutters “That felt… nice,” while avoiding eye contact.

Bertholdt’s gaze is soft, and with uncharacteristic resolve he pulls the bottom of her bodice upwards, revealing a pair of pale, creamy breasts with their respective pink, hardened nubs. 

He doesn’t even think about it, he just goes for it because of instinct, probably, and is only aware of his lips on her nipple because of Annie gasping at the contact. He licks it, humming slightly and thoroughly enjoying her reaction. He uses his fingers on the other nipple to increase the intensity, and from the corner of his eye, he can see her legs parting.

Bertholdt jumps in surprise when he feels her palm on his erection and stops his ministrations to look at her. Her cheeks are bright pink and her lips are red from biting them and she is slightly breathless and fuck, Bertholdt can’t stop staring at her to burn this image into his memory. 

Her hand moves up and down his hardness, and it’s now his turn to moan, and Annie’s body reacts with another shiver, remembering the night at the stables. It demands skin against skin, so she slides down into a lying position and pulls him over to her, then wraps her legs around him. He gives a helpless gasp and his hips move with a decisive jerk that hits just right.

“Oh–,” Annie keens ardently. It feels even better than last time now that he is on top of her and doing the moving, and her mind screams for the barrier of clothes to be removed as quickly as possible.

_ ‘Sex’ _ , she thinks both scared and excited.  _ ‘We’re going to–’ _

Before she can say anything, Bertholdt kisses her neck again. He moves down to her collarbone, then sprinkles more kisses down her breast and torso and finally arrives to her bellybutton and the waistband of her trousers.

“Take them off,” she says with a little desperation, and he thinks she means her clothes, but before he can get to them, she jumps off the makeshift bedding and unceremoniously takes off her pants and underwear in what seems to be a single movement.

Once again, he sits on his heels with a stupid look on his face and unable to take his eyes off the patch of dark blonde curls between her legs.

Her boldness turns into shyness when Bertholdt doesn't move. She strides over to the bedding and plops herself on it, bending slightly to regain a little modesty. "Hurry up and take your pants off, too!"

He snaps back to reality and gives a confused "What?"

"Your pants. Take them off."

"No, but… I mean, right now?"

She looks at him with a mildly impatient expression.

"No, sorry,” he corrects himself. “What I meant was that right now it's about you, Annie."

He places his hand on hers and asks "I'd like to perform– no, I'd like to give– I mean… Would you care for some oral sex?"

Annie covers her face with her hands and starts shaking as she tries to suppress a fit of silent laughter. Bertholdt places his hands on his face as well, mortified at his awkward wording.

"Okay, yeah," she says when she has recovered. "How do we…?"

Bertholdt removes his hands from his face and considers this. Neither of them has done this before, so they have no real basis as to the best practices and etiquette of the act.

"I think you can sit in the bedding, and I can kneel in front of you," Bertholdt suggests.

Annie is already sitting, so he sinks down and places his hands on her knees. She can feel the goosebumps traveling up and down her legs, and the fine, almost transparent hairs on them standing on edge.

He kisses her knees and very slowly spreads her legs, tracing the path to the inside of her thighs with his lips. Annie can feel her heartbeat race in anticipation, and when he is finally close enough that his cheek is tickled by the golden curls that cover her sex, her breathing hitches.

He parts the pubic hair, and she can feel her outer lips tingle. He is breathing as fast as she is, and feels the warmth of it a few seconds before he finally places his mouth on her. She gasps at the contact, and when he gives a long, broad lick that ends with a flick to her clit, she falls backwards into the ‘bed’, propping her feet on the edge of it to allow Bertholdt enough space for maneuvering.

Encouraged by her positive response, he proceeds, using his tongue to delve into her folds and explore every niche. With decisive strokes from her entrance to her clitoris, he has her breathing hard and clenching the sheets with her fists. Her taste is both slightly salty and acidic, but delightfully erotic nonetheless. He is certain it lights up a primal part of his brain and wants more and more of Annie. His belly flops at the thought of ‘more Annie’ because ‘more’ means he already has ‘some’ of her, and never in a million years he thought that would be possible for him.

With every ooh and aah from Annie, Bertholdt can feel his cock twitching eagerly inside his britches, but he has already decided that today is all about her. She had made him cum once already, however embarrassing that might have been, and it's only fair, not to mention that he is fascinated by this new facet of her. If he can listen to her sighs of pleasure, and feel the quiver of her body, and see the blush in her face as long as she’d allow, he’d be perfectly happy dying tomorrow.

His tongue circles her entrance, and he is rewarded by a sharp thrust of her hips forward. He dips into her with his tongue and she gasps in appreciation. He plunges in and out of her, and it feels lovely, but it's not enough. She considers something thicker and harder belongs there, something that will not happen just yet, and urges him to concentrate his efforts on the sensitive bud that had made her see stars earlier.

“Hey,” she whispers, her voice cracking. Bertholdt eagerly raises his face. “Can you just do it with your tongue here?”

She uses her index and middle finger to draw his attention to the swollen bundle of nerves that is begging to be touched. He nods and shifts slightly to adjust his posture, mentally prepared for being here as long as Annie would like.

Annie sighs as he surrounds her clit with his lips, then licks it with short, slow strokes. It’s wonderful; hot and cold at the same time and delightfully wet. 

He doesn't settle on a rhythm at first, trying different angles and varying the speed in his eagerness to please her. Though it's his first time doing it, his natural talent for learning quickly kicks up. He doesn't process or analyze it, his body simply makes the connection between whatever he is doing at the moment and Annie's particular reaction to it and stores the information at a subconscious level. 

She isn't sure how much time has passed, but Bertholdt seems not to mind at all. While the pleasure is ever-present, she doesn’t yet feel the familiar build-up of an orgasm, probably due to him changing techniques too often.

She elbows her way to a half-sitting position and he lifts his head to see what is the problem. For some reason, he looks like he was taking a nap and she had just woken him up.

"I… You should just stick to just one rhythm, otherwise…"

“Oh, sure. What would you like me to do?” he asks.

Annie stares at him. What is he expecting her to say?  _ ‘Oh, do the slurpy up-and-down’ _ or  _ ‘I prefer the wiggly circles’ _ ?

“Just… keep going and I’ll let you know,” she says.

He nods and dives right back into his performance, and she is once again compelled to lay on her back. After a few moments, Annie raises her hips slightly and presses against him, trying to find the right spot. 

It finally happens. He flicks his tongue in quick succession on the bottom side of her clitoris, and the reaction is immediate. She hisses a high-pitched "There!" and jerks her hips rapturously.

He repeats the action again and again, and it isn't long before her legs tremble like jelly and her body tightens with anticipation. Annie’s breaths are quick and shallow and she bites her lips to prevent her from uttering a series of tiny “Yes, yes, yes, yes…”

The noise in the mess hall and kitchen had long been drowned out by the sound of their heartbeats drumming against their ears, but a loud crash makes both of them jump. 

“Everyone, I made cookies! Good job on your exams!”

“Krista!!!”

The words are somewhat muffled due to the distance and the walls dividing them, but it is enough to distract them both.

“Hell, they should go already,” Annie mutters, before settling back on the bed. Bertholdt resumes his endeavor, but after barely a minute another round of cheers and claps makes its way to the cellar. He can hear Annie grunt with a vexed pant, but he ignores this and keeps up the action with his tongue.

When the cadets start stomping their feet on the floor and banging their fists on the table, chanting something about “the Goddess of the 104th”, Annie throws her hand in the air in desperation. She closes her legs, swinging her body to the side and barely missing kicking Bertholdt’s mouth by a couple of centimeters.

“Annie, is everything okay?”

“No!” she whines loudly. “I just… I can’t do it, with all that fucking noise outside.” Her mouth is a tight line of disappointment and anger. “You know what? Let’s just… leave it at that for now. Let’s go back,” she says, disillusioned.

Bertholdt frowns and bites his lip nervously. He doesn’t want to insist or push her when she has already said she wants to leave, but he is also reluctant to stop when she had been so close to climaxing.

He is still kneeling in front of her, and when she pulls down her bodice and reaches for her hoodie, he places a hand on her knee. 

“Annie,” he says with concern. “Are you sure?”

She huffs and glares at Bertholdt as if daring him to go further. 

“If you don’t want to continue I’ll not push it but… Is that really what you want?”

She had half-expected him to snivel an apology after having the audacity to challenge what she had declared, but when he doesn’t back down and regards her with honest concern, it is she who ends up considering the situation. What  _ does  _ she really want?

For the longest time, she has told herself she wants nothing but to return to her hometown. It had been true, and in a way, it was comforting because she didn’t have to hold hope for anything else and then be disappointed when things went wrong. Now, she wants Bertholdt to hold her close and she wants to smile and to laugh about things like a normal person and she wants more of that milk pie and, most of all, she wants to be touched so badly it scares her. He has made her want so much that she hates him for it.

“I want to stay,” she confesses quietly, defying her own character.

He lets out the long, relieved breath he had been holding in and smiles at her. It almost feels like a lifeline to Annie and leaves her wondering how she had ever thought she could hate him.

“Maybe we should start again,” he suggests and Annie nods quietly.

They kiss, this time without the nervous greenness of their earlier actions. The way he uses his tongue makes her think of how he’ll be going down on her soon, and her belly feels heavy with want. She circles his neck with her arms and clutches at his shirt collar, and he moves to lick the shell of her ear. Annie bites her lower lip to suppress a mewl, and it’s almost music to his ears. He grounds his erection against her core to alleviate his lust in some measure. Despite millions of years of instinct embedded in his human body urging him to copulate, Bertholdt manages to regain his sense and focus on his initial objective.

Bertholdt moves off the bed and they both retake their earlier positions. He nuzzles her sex briefly, then eases his way with soft, gentle strokes that soon consolidate into ardent, impassionate worship.

Her eyelids flutter, her chest rises and falls, her hands grasp for the bedsheets in tight fists. Her mind races, but all of her thoughts are about Bertholdt and, dammit, it's not love but it's still a feeling, tender and all-encompassing.

She glances down at him, and her belly flips when she sees him fully concentrated in the task at hand with his eyes closed and his right shoulder moving up and down quickly.

_ 'He's touching himself,' _ she thinks, and the concept of him being so turned on from eating her out he can't stop himself from masturbating is so enticing to her, it triggers the clenching of her core that indicates her orgasm is approaching.

"B-Bertl," she moans. Annie can feel him snap to attention at the sound of his nickname, but never slowing down or interrupting his labor.

"Bertl, I'm going to…" 

She shuts off from the world, her full attention directed to her quivering center. Then, it happens. It’s like in ODM gear training when she steps out of the platform and into the void, the two seconds before the taut wires pull her into a trajectory so fast it beats the effects of gravity.

Instead of feeling the world pass her by, though, she feels like time has stopped, and she is imploding, her body a black hole that pulls and pulls and takes it all in. 

Her toes curl and her legs shake, and her cunt pulses in waves to grasp onto a hardness that isn’t there. Annie has never felt an orgasm so powerful before, one that had left her breathless and disoriented. After a few seconds, her mind clears enough to remember Bertholdt, who is now sitting on his heels and gazing at her with blushing adoration and wiping her juices from his lips and cheeks with the back of his hand.

She is quite flushed from her climax, but she still finds herself blushing.

"That… that was so intense…" she says in a roundabout way of thanking him for his dedication. She sits up with the help of her wobbly arms, feeling both heavy of limbs and light of spirit in her post-orgasmic bliss.

He smiles sweetly, almost shy, and then lays his head on her lap and closes his eyes. For the first time in a while, her mind is not racing. The thoughts come and go one by one, and she lets them. She feels… happy? Maybe. She doesn’t deem it important to define it, she just basks in the casual comfort of the situation.

Annie sweeps the hair from Bertholdt’s forehead and observes his features, so different yet exactly the same as when they first arrived at Paradis. She wonders how he will look in a few years. Their life expectancy is, at best, 22 years old, and even with their Titan powers there is no guarantee. Take Marcel, for instance. But, just for a few moments, she can picture herself back in Liberio.

Annie says goodbye to her father, who is reading the newspaper and drinking a cup of coffee, and leaves their house wearing the crisp, white uniform of Marleyan Military Officers. She chooses to use pants, unlike Pieck, because she never got around being comfortable in skirts. The walking distance to the offices is short, as they had been provided with better houses in close proximity to the Military Headquarters once they had returned as heroes. 

She opens the door of the office and makes her way inside, and Porco and Reiner are arguing as usual. Reiner has a cigarette between his fingers and gestures with impatience, and Porco raises his voice to drown Reiner’s own. Zeke is sitting on a sofa with one leg crossed and looks at them half-amused while nursing his cup of coffee. Then, just as she takes a seat at the meeting table, Pieck and Bertholdt enter, guiding six children —all looking suspiciously like Marcel— in training uniforms into the room. She notes Pieck and Bertholdt are good with kids, smiling broadly and patting them on the head as they instruct them to wait to the side and asking them if they want a glass of water.

They are their successors, and in a few years they will be taking their Titan powers. The thought is disconcerting, as she looks at each of them with their wide eyes and chubby cheeks and the impatient enthusiasm of those aching to prove their worth.

Bertholdt sits on the chair next to her and smiles, and she wants to see what he looks like —does he have a beard? Did he cut his hair? Is his face sharper? Are his eyes the same greyish green, full of kindness despite the horrors they had survived? It’s all blurry. Humans have a hard time imagining that which they have not yet seen with their own eyes.

Annie is pulled back to the cellar as Bertholdt places his hand on her thigh and strokes it gently. He utters an almost inaudible “I love you”, which makes her heart race again.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“It’s fine,” he says matter-of-factly, with no real sadness or resignation in his voice. “You don’t have to return my feelings or anything. I… just wanted to let you know.”

He has asked for nothing and she has given him exactly that. On the other hand, she has gotten so much from him despite never requesting it, and keeps taking and taking. She doesn’t get it, because in her mind everything has a transactional purpose, but he doesn’t seem motivated by getting anything in return, from her or anyone else. Annie doesn’t know if it’s out of kindness or self-defeat (or a combination of both) but she feels guilty.

She could… she could give him something, even if he doesn’t ask for it. This is where it gets difficult for Annie because she is scared of looking foolish, or doing something wrong, or being outright rejected. Before she can think too much about it, she slides down and he is forced to lift his head, only to find the object of his affection sitting on his lap with her sex pressed right against his raging erection.

“A-A-Annie?” he stutters, confused. He had been so relaxed just a few moments earlier, and now he is in overdrive, every last part of him on fire at the proximity of their bodies —particularly certain parts.

She rolls her hips and her slit presses against his length, and he moans and bends forward, his head falling on her shoulder.

“What do you want?” she asks softly.

“Wha-?”

“Do you want to fuck me?” she questions him again, continuing with the enticing motion.

“I–” he begins, then stops with a sharp gasp as she shifts slightly and the head of his cock slides against her entrance. “A-ah–”

Annie is also hit with a wave of nervous pleasure that borders on raw anticipation. He is so close, and she feels so ready.

“Annie, I don’t… Not fuck. Not that. I want to make love to you,” he finally manages to say.

She is dizzy once again, shaken by his words. Why, why does he have to be like this? Why couldn’t he use her like she had used him tonight and back at the stables?  _ Why?! _

“Annie… Ah–! Annie,” he moans her name again and again as their hips meet with desperate, erratic bumps. 

Her second orgasm hits her so suddenly she has to grip herself to him, clawing at his back, sinking her teeth in his shoulder while she swallows a high-pitched scream and cants her pelvis hard against him. This triggers his climax. He pants and wraps his arm around her and pulls her tight while his seed spills on his bent legs and some of the flour sacks they had been using as a bed.

She is too exhausted to cry, but she whimpers softly while riding the waves of physical satedness. He places a hand on her head, and their breaths synchronize while slowly regaining the placid rhythm of a resting heart rate.

Bertholdt knows it can be overwhelming, especially the first times cumming in front of someone else. He knows he can’t say anything helpful, and even if he did they would fall on deaf ears. “It’s all going to be alright.” “You can cry if you want.” “I am here for you.” He keeps the words of comfort all to himself, hoping that Annie can understand what he feels without saying it —because saying them makes them real, and he doesn’t want to burden her with them. 

Once she has regained her composure, she stands up and simply goes about retrieving the clothes that are strewn on the cellar floor. Bertholdt looks away flustered, and buckles his belt, taking a handkerchief from his back pocket to clean the mess he had left.

Annie’s voice is hoarse as she comments “I think everyone already left,” regarding the noisy celebrations from earlier.

“Oh, yeah,” Bertholdt says, noticing the sepulchral silence that surrounds them. “Then we should have no problem going back.”

“For sure,” Annie agrees.

They debate over folding the bedsheet and leave it where they found it (Annie) and taking it with them and washing it (Bertholdt). Bertholdt sustains his position, so he rolls it into a convenient size and places it under his arm.

Everything is left just the way they had found it, more or less, and after slipping out and locking the cellar door, Annie pushes the key under the mess hall door so that whoever goes inside the next day will find it.

Before they return to the more visible area of the training camp, Annie tugs Bertholdt’s sleeve.

“Hey, I… Well, the last part. I thought you wanted to…?” she says, trying her best to sound nonchalant. Bertholdt blushes, which in turn makes her blush, and her voice trails off.

“Umm… intercourse?” he offers. Annie nods.

“I– I really, really wanted to, Annie. Believe me, it was… God, I can’t even…” he speaks with nervous excitement. “But I also worried about… baby.”

“Baby?”

“Pregnancy, I mean. We didn’t plan to do it beforehand, so maybe today is not a safe day, and you know they don’t have preservatives on the island and…”

She puts one hand on her mouth and observes him. “You know I don’t  _ have _ to be pregnant.”

Bertholdt frowns as he looks at Annie, who seems not to understand his line of reasoning. It is true, to some extent, that she doesn’t have to be pregnant if she doesn’t want to. Marley had conducted studies in past female Titan shifters. With their regenerating and healing abilities, they had been able to reject the embryo and effectively terminate their pregnancy in the early stages. But why would Annie want to subject herself to that, when the difficult decision could be avoided altogether?

“Still… I’d much rather we go about it differently, Annie. That is, if you… If you want to do it.”

She doesn’t understand him, but she knows his concerns come from a place of caring, so she nods in agreement. “You really are going to make us plan having sex, huh?”

Bertholdt gives a little nervous laugh. “You don’t have to say it like that… But I think it’d be best.”

The corners of her mouth twitch into a smile. This time, she doesn’t want to leave her feelings behind in the cellar.  _ ‘It’s not love, but it’s still a feeling’ _ , she repeats to herself with the certainty of a teenager who believes she will always think the same way all of her life. There is some truth to it, given the few years they had left, but she is unaware of the potential for change that comes with young adulthood.

Right now, though, she can’t give it and he doesn’t want it, so it works.

\- 4 - 

It isn’t even that late, but Bertholdt can hear the loud snoring coming from the bedrooms. The male cadets had probably played football all day and were bone-tired. This relieves him; with some luck, he would be able to slip into his bed without being noticed by Reiner.

He moves to his bed and sees the bundled up figure of Reiner facing away from his bed, a steady, slow breath that makes it rise and fall slightly. 

Bertholdt climbs on his own bed and takes off his shirt, unbuckles his belt, and puts on his sleeping clothes. Then, he considers if he should wash the bedsheet right now, or just put it with the rest of the linens on the laundry pile. The exhaustion of the day’s events starts to set in, so he lays down and places the bundled fabric next to him, giving himself permission to not think about it until tomorrow. His mind and heart are still full of Annie, and he closes his eyes, certain sleep will come in any minute.

What does arrive, though, is the feeling of his mattress being weighed down by another person, then an arm snaking around his torso and hot breath tickling his ear. Bertholdt blinks, half-asleep and for a second he thinks it’s Annie, but a deep voice whispers “I’m sorry”.

“Reiner…,” Bertholdt murmurs. “What…?”

“I’m sorry, Bertl,” Reiner continues. “I’ve been a jerk and–” he places his hand on Bertholdt’s groin.

Bertholdt swallows, his breath hitching. “Right now?”

Reiner moves his hand in a stroking motion, making Bertholdt draw a sharp breath. “Yes, now. Everyone is asleep.” Then, he plants a soft kiss on the side of his neck and nuzzles against him.

“I don’t know what got into me. A lot of stuff happened today but I kept thinking about you…” Reiner whispers.

Reiner gets like this when he feels guilty, and Bertholdt guesses it’s because he had had too much fun with the other guys today. Warrior Reiner pulls through and takes control for a while, seeking some relief with his best friend.

Bertholdt is now hard, his body reacting positively but his mind in turmoil.  _ ‘What if he smells or tastes Annie on me?’ _

Reiner takes his silence and rapid breaths as a positive sign. He pins the taller boy down with one hand and continues stroking his erection with the other.

“Don’t,” Bertholdt protests for the first time ever. He has never rebuked Reiner’s advances, but his voice trembles and it sounds like he is worried about someone catching them, not actually wanting to stop. Reiner mouths “don’t worry” and takes the bedsheet Bertholdt and Annie had used earlier and drapes it over himself in a way that wouldn’t make any groggy cadet suspicious if they didn’t look very close.

Reiner desperately pulls down the pants and underwear and immediately takes him into his mouth. Bertholdt throws his head back into the pillow and opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. This is only the third time this has ever happened, as the circumstances often only allow the most discreet of dry humping or hand jobs. When they had completed the first year of training and moved to a dormitory without bunks (after almost half the initial trainees had dropped out), the chances of nocturnal fooling around became even rarer.

It feels incredible, but Bertholdt’s mind goes to Annie. He doesn’t want it to —Annie is Annie and Reiner is Reiner and it would be disrespectful to both of them— but it happens. It’s even easier to imagine because Reiner is under the covers, and although he is much larger than Annie, the darkness helps.

The broad tongue gives a long lick from the base to the tip of Bertholdt's cock and then circles the head with the precise diligence of someone who has a penis and therefore knows his way around one. This throws him off, as the only time he had ever fantasized of Annie giving him —no,  _ participated in _ — fellatio, she was not very good at it (and that was the charm of it).

Still, he puts everything he's got into the fantasy: Annie's fine, flaxen hair tangled in his hand. Annie's big, blue eyes and dark blonde eyelashes looking at him, and her mouth twitching with a hint of a teasing smile that makes his heart beat faster. Her narrow tongue licks her thin, pink lips just before they make contact with his member.

He is pulled back to the reality of the dorm as Reiner takes him deep and applies suction, hollowing his cheeks slightly. Bertholdt clutches at the bedsheets with desperation. Despite his earlier release, his body is more than eager to accept the direct stimulation to its inevitable conclusion.

_ ‘Why am I so weak against this?’ _ Bertholdt thinks. 

"Hey, stop," he says, placing a hand over Reiner's head, over the sheet.

Reiner stops and removes the cloth from his head. He lets go with a wet pop, and whispers harshly "Is that really what you want?"

He had said those same words to Annie just an hour ago, and the irony is not lost on him. The  _ 'yes' _ gets stuck in his throat, and Reiner takes it as a sign to go on. He resumes the blowjob while making eye contact.

_ ‘I am weak,’ _ Bertholdt thinks.

After several minutes of getting his dick sucked and pumped, he comes hard, almost painfully so, and cries.

_ ‘I am weak,’ _ he repeats in his mind, ashamed and overcome by the orgasmic waves that reverberate on every corner or his body.

As he lays down, Bertholdt covers his eyes with his forearm and sniffles. Reiner gets scared. It had been quite a while since his best friend had cried, and it had never been because of him —not that he knows of.

Reiner immediately moves to hug him and Bertholdt whimpers.

"I'm sorry, Bertholdt. I'm sorry."

“It's not that". He wants to say it's not  _ just _ that, but he can't. He can’t bear to hurt Reiner, he can’t bear to reject him despite everything.

Reiner kisses him on the forehead and murmurs words of comfort, but the tears will not stop. Bertholdt’s throat is a painful knot from swallowing the sobs so as not to wake anyone up.

“Reiner, I want to go home,” Bertholdt finally manages to utter. “Annie and you and me. Please.”

“I promise, Bertl. We’ll go home. I’m sorry for everything,” Reiner says quietly, stroking his hair.

It isn’t long before Reiner’s breathing deepens and then turns into snoring. Bertholdt pushes him back to his own bed, then throws the bunched-up sheet to the floor. He lays there with profound sadness and shame. 

He doesn’t deserve Annie or Reiner. He doesn’t deserve the friendship of Krista, Ymir, and Sasha, or anyone else. How can he, someone who has contributed to the extermination of his own race, pretend to be a normal person? How can he just sleep in the same room with people who have lost families and friends because of him? Who could die because of him?

He is not even doing this out of personal conviction, he is just following orders. That thought had given him comfort for years, an absolution of sorts, but now it condemns him. He just follows orders, he goes along with whatever anyone says, he lets himself be used because he wants to be appreciated. He wants to be loved.

Back in Marley, everyone was always praising Bertholdt. Smart boy, talented boy, sweet boy, amazing boy. He learned fast and mastered his way into a Warrior position, receiving the most powerful Titan because of his potential. He had always been somewhat quiet, but he was friends with everyone.

Once they landed on Paradis, though, everything changed. Marcel, being the leader, had noticed that Bertholdt needed words of encouragement to do his best. His leadership lasted all of 48 hours, though. Reiner took charge. Despite their friendship, he never noticed the relationship between Bertholdt’s performance and giving him a little pep talk. How could he? They were so young, and Bertholdt himself had not even made the connection in order to convey his needs to him. So Bertholdt stuck to Reiner, with the unconscious hope that he would someday provide the praise that his family and his teachers and the Military officers had once issued in large amounts.

Annie wasn't particularly interested in him back then, so he had never expected to hear her compliment him. She lived in her own bubble, never really wanting anything from anyone or giving anything. He wished he, too, could be so independent, so clearly detached from the world. She isn’t uncaring, he knew, but the coolness she carries herself with is probably what has always drawn him to her.

Now that his thoughts have shifted to Annie, he is slightly soothed. The guilt subsides as he recalls her face, all of her expressions of the day ranging from annoyance to amusement to orgasmic bliss. He remembers how she tasted and the sounds she produced, and the feeling of her trembling body so close to his. Most importantly, he summons the full-body memory of her embracing him, clinging to him in desperate rapture. With that, he is finally able to fall asleep.

When he wakes up the next morning, the boys are disconcerted by his normal sleeping position and determine it will hail at 12 pm, probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recipe for the milk pie (in Spanish): https://www.cocinarygozar.com/recetas/pay-de-leche/ This is typical of my hometown, and it's fairly easy to do, so if you like to bake I do recommend you try it.


	5. Chapter 4 - The Consummation of a Notion*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long-ass chapter. They finally bone.
> 
> I had some trouble writing Annie in some parts, but then I remembered Ar*ani is canon so I just let my indulgent ass go to town and fluffed it up. That’s what fanfics are for.
> 
> Also, I modified the setting a little bit in the part of the graduation ceremony. Canonly, they’re supposed to already be in Trost, but I made it so that it takes place in the training camp because of reasons, it doesn’t really change things that much.

\- 1 - 

Since their shopping trip, Krista, Ymir, and Sasha had been trying to get Bertholdt to hang out with them more often. With Sasha, of course, Connie comes as a package deal. Once Connie tags along, he'll drag Jean into it, who in turn would bring Marco. Then Marco would ask Armin to join them, and so Eren and Mikasa also get involved. It’s not really a cohesive group; it ebbs and flows, but it seems that the previously very defined small groups have become more social. Even Annie is present a lot of the times, which never used to happen.

So, despite his best efforts to avoid people, he is somehow constantly surrounded by them. This makes him even more taciturn, which results in Reiner getting the protagonism he desires.

Bertholdt does not want to be like this. Of course he wants to go along with Krista, Ymir, and Sasha when they invite him to go to town or to a picnic by the lake. He’d love to join Armin and Marco in the sort of study group (study pair?) they had formed as of lately, reading and playing chess and other standard nerd stuff. He’d enjoy playing football with Jean and Connie and the rest of the guys, and the subsequent banter and bonding. 

Every time he turns them down he feels a pang in his chest, and when Reiner inevitably pushes him to join anyway, he is downright miserable. Not in the moment —of course— but usually in the aftermath, when everyone is talking about how they will be friends forever, even after they move to other cities and get married and have children, or late at night in his bed where he’ll toss and turn for hours because the guilt will not let him sleep.

In his heart of hearts, Bertholdt knows that his social withdrawal to avoid ending up like Reiner is exactly one of the things that push Reiner further into his soldier persona. He has little choice, though, because if that had happened to Reiner, with his drive and fervent commitment to the mission, how can he expect himself to not be affected given his lack of will?

The only way he can be of use to Reiner and Annie is to not get swept away by the bonhomie of the cadets and the allure of a sheltered, unremarkable life in the military. He hates it most of the time, having to distance himself, but he does it anyway. For his own sanity. For Reiner and for Annie. For the sake of the mission.

\- 2 - 

On a particularly hot Saturday after training is over, Sasha and Connie talk everyone into going to the lake to cool down. It’s not precisely close, and the walk there would only augment the heat they already felt, but the unspoken promise of watching other cadets stripped down to their underwear and dripping wet appeals to the group enough to endure it.

After much begging, sulking, and guilt-tripping, Reiner manages to get Bertholdt to go with him. By the time they arrive, there are about fifteen cadets splashing around in the water, their clothes strewn about carelessly.

Reiner quickly spots Krista, who is being dunked underwater by Ymir in yet another bizarre attempt at flirting. Sasha is carrying Connie on her shoulders, and they seem to be attempting to get Marco to carry Jean so that they can wrestle. Franz and Hannah are just sitting in the shallow part, so that the water doesn’t go past their hips, laughing and conversing cheerfully. There are several other cadets splashing around, playing and shaking off the exhaustion of the day’s training.

Reiner quickly removes his clothes, and Bertholdt watches him without moving. 

“What? You’re not getting in?”

“Sorry, no,” he answers. “I’m not really feeling it…”

Reiner frowns. “I get that you weren’t too keen, but we’re already here.”

Bertholdt averts his gaze and says nothing.

“Suit yourself,” Reiner declares, half-annoyed. He had taken two steps in the direction of the lake when he stops. “You have changed, Bertl. You weren’t like this before.”

Without waiting for an answer because he knows he would get none, Reiner walks to the shore. Everyone cheers for him as they notice his presence, and he laughs as he joins the group. 

Bertholdt winces at the words and at the instant change in Reiner as soon as he is surrounded by their friends. It hurts, but he doesn't let it sway his determination. _‘Avoid getting too close.’_

He walks to the single tree that stands right next to the path; it’s not very big, but it gives a nice shade and it’s close enough to see everyone. He sits down, then hugs his knees. Sasha and Connie, who had immediately ran to greet Reiner, turn to look at Bertholdt and wave at him wildly in invitation. He waves back and lifts his shoulders as a quiet thanks-but-no-thanks. They give him a thumbs-up of understanding, and go back to their aquatic shenanigans, climbing on Reiner’s back at the same time to knock him down.

Berthold smiles softly as he contemplates his best friend from afar. It is almost funny, how the person who would spout the most fanatical, nationalist rhetoric in favor of Marley is exactly the person Bertholdt worries will turn his back on it. What if one day his mind switches him into Paradis Soldier Reiner and is unable to remember who he really is? Or, having a change of heart, reveals the truth behind their mission and helps launch a counterattack?

He shakes his head. The latter scenario is not only improbable but, in the grand scheme of things, futile if it ever came to happen. Paradis is at best pre-industrialized, if not downright medieval, and has a decimated population —before long, it will receive another devastating blow.

No, the real danger lies in the former: Soldier Reiner taking over Warrior Reiner. Bertholdt sighs. He does not want it to happen, but as he regards his best friend playing around in the water, he ponders if it would really be that bad? Reiner seems so much happier that it could be considered a kindness to just let him be.

For so many years, Reiner has been the dependable one, the driving force in the trio who seems to push everything into motion. Now, it is obvious that Bertholdt will have to take “control” and make decisions at some point. With the uncertainty of Reiner’s mental state, that occasion can literally be anytime, anywhere, and that terrifies Bertholdt.

He knows he can kill and massacre; he knows he can take the mental load of doing such atrocities, and having to experience first-hand the devastating consequences of his actions —but only because he had been prepared for it. There had been a plan laid out and he had just had to follow the instructions. Without the cognitive safety of a plan, however flimsy it may be, he is not prepared.

The sound of footsteps on gravel makes Bertholdt turn, and he observes Ruth, Mina, and Annie walking down the path to the lake and scanning the water for someone.

“Ruthie, look! There’s Thomas!”

“Omigosh, Mina. What should I…? Should I go in?”

“Of course, you silly! I’m sure he likes you.”

“B-but…”

“Don’t worry, we’ll go together,” Mina reassures her.

Just as they take off their jackets, Bertholdt panics. Everyone inside the lake is in their underwear, but the action of taking off the clothes seems to him to be on a whole other level, especially when he is fully dressed and they have no idea he is right there.

He coughs and greets them, so as to make them aware of his presence.

“Hey!” he says, and it comes out unnaturally cheerful and loud.

“Maria, Rose, and Sheena! You scared the dickens out of me, Bertholdt,” Mina exclaims, placing a hand on her heart.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “Um… I’m going to turn around so you can… get ready.”

“Oh...! Thanks, Bertholdt. That’s very considerate of you,” Mina voices. “You’re not getting in?”

He moves so that his back is to them and focuses all of his attention on a particularly smooth and round rock so as not to think about the sound of clothes rustling behind him. “No, not today.”

“Are you on your period?” Annie asks.

Everyone stops what they are doing, uncomfortable with the question.

“Umm…” Bertholdt begins, not sure what to say.

“That wasn’t very nice, Annie,” Ruth mutters reprovingly. 

“I’m on my period,” Annie explains flatly. “It was a joke, I guess, because I’m not going in either.”

“Oh,” the other three quietly say, once again in awe of Annie’s dark sense of humor.

“You should have told us if you didn’t want to come,” Mina remarks.

“It’s fine. It’s cooler over here than in the training camp, in any case,” Annie says. She walks to the tree and leans back.

“Okay, then. Have fun.”

The sound of crunching sand and a subsequent splash and squeal of “It’s cold!” are the signal he had been waiting for to return to his initial position without seeming creepy. 

“Do you want to sit down, Annie?” Bertholdt asks.

She doesn’t answer, but pushes her back to the tree trunk in order to slide down to a sitting position right beside him. “I hate hot weather,” she says, fanning her face with one hand for a few moments.

She lets down her hair and gathers it again in her hands, redoing the messy bun she likes to wear. He notices the nape of her neck sprinkled with droplets of sweat and short blonde hairs escaping from the grip of the hairband. He is seized by a sudden, urgent desire to kiss it.

“Do you want to do it tonight?” Annie asks point-blank. 

Bertholdt, who is in the process of passing saliva, chokes and starts coughing.

“Oh, didn’t mean to startle you,” she says. “I thought that it could work out today. I’m on my period and I’m less likely to get pregnant, since that seems to be important to you. It could get messy, but it’s just blood, right? We’re used to that.”

He recovers quickly but keeps on coughing because he has no idea of what to say.

Since their last time together and the subsequent entanglement with Reiner several weeks ago, Bertholdt had had a hard time looking at Annie in the eye. He hadn’t been exactly avoiding her, but he couldn’t help be overwhelmed by the uncomfortable synthesization of guilt and devotion.

When it became obvious he was fine, Annie interjects with a “You can say no if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that, Annie. I do, it’s just...” he pauses. “Reiner and I… I haven’t told you about that.”

“About Reiner and you? You don’t have to tell me, it is pretty obvious you guys had something.” Bertholdt looks shocked.

“I don’t care,” Annie assures him. “Good for you, all that practice made you a very good kisser.”

“Thanks? I guess...?” he mutters. “S-so, the thing is… we still… I mean, it’s nothing, but it’s also _not_ nothing. Kind of like us, I guess.”

Annie raises an eyebrow. “So you two are still...”

“Yes and no,” he is quick to say. “I mean, sometimes Reiner comes onto me and I can’t say no.”

"You _can't_ say no to him," she repeats his words slowly. "That's convenient. When was the last time you two were together?"

He had been dreading this question, but it was the reason he had brought it up in the first place. He knows there is nothing serious between Annie and him, but it seems unfair to not disclose the information when they have grown so close.

“The night we were at the cellar,” he confesses shakily.

Annie feels a cold chill run through her spine, numbing her and rendering her unable to speak for a few seconds. Then, it’s replaced by something red-hot that thaws her mind, and the feelings spin through her mind so fast she isn’t able to be consumed by any single one of them: betrayal, rejection, inadequacy, and black, suffocating loneliness. It’s a mess without heads or tails, but somehow she manages to find her voice.

“Okay,” she croaks. “So you weren’t satisfied with–”

“No! Annie, no, that’s not–”

“–and went to Reiner to–”

“I was already asleep!” he hisses a little too loudly, and Annie stops. He is shaking. “Reiner came to my bed and started touching me and…” he trails off.

“And you couldn’t say no,” she finishes. He nods sadly, convinced he has effectively pushed Annie away forever. It’s not even about him, about not being able to be with her again, but about having hurt her with his weakness.

"Bertholdt, I never thought you would be such a popular guy. Jean would sure love to know how you do it," she says after a while. Her tone is taunting and dismissive to make him uncomfortable. It’s also a way to deflect from the fact that whatever she and Bertholdt have (or had) began with her doing exactly what Reiner did, knowing full well Bertholdt didn’t have it in him to reject them.

Before he can apologize again, she questions him: “Would you say yes to whoever asked you to make out with them?”

He blushes, mortified. “O-of course not, Annie! I love you and I love Reiner, that’s why… I’m not good with words, but I would do anything to make you both happy.”

She raises an eyebrow,skeptical. “Even if we force ourselves on you?” she adds to gauge his reaction.

“Don’t say it like that,” he says, agitated. “I… I don’t think I have it in me to be assertive, so it’s fine if you take the initiative in that way. I like it. A lot.”

Annie observes him quietly and lets him continue. 

“You aren’t forcing yourself on me. Neither is Reiner. Both of you are kind, and I’m lucky I can give you something you want, even if it’s so small, when there is so much going on around us.”

“Wow,” Annie says. “That’s kind of fucked up.”

“What?”

“Everything you just said,” she remarks. “To make things worse, you think Reiner and I are kind. Mainly me. Well… you could argue that Reiner _is_ nice sometimes... to other people who are not me, I guess.”

“You are kind, Annie.”

Annie snorts and is about to object, but he places his hand on hers. It’s sweaty and quite warm, but it actually makes her heart skip a bit, which surprises her given her ongoing displeasure.

“I’m not saying that you aren’t selfish. You are, but that just makes your kindness mean so much more.” He sighs, clearly remembering the moments he describes. “I have seen how you help others, despite having zero inclination or reason to do it. You don’t make a big deal of it, but it happens fairly often.”

She says nothing.

“I hope… That I can be brave in the same way you are kind,” he says a little more quietly and lowers his face. “I hope there comes a day when I can be brave and determined and that it may help someone, despite… despite myself.”

Annie’s earlier resentment has subsided and she finds herself feeling for him. It is still a mystery to her why Bertholdt likes her and insists on her being a decent person. She believes that how someone perceives her has less to do with her and more to do with that person and what they value. And Bertholdt is a good person, so that is what he sees in her, however small and hidden that goodness may be.

“And you think Reiner is kind, after everything that has happened?”

Berthold smiles sadly.

“He is. I know it’s hard for you to see it, but I have been with him for a long time… I don’t think I would have kept it together if he hadn’t given this mission his all.”

Reiner had condemned them by making them stay in the island, but he had also saved them because there simply is no way of knowing what would have happened if they had returned to Marley two days later without Marcel. The choice had been taken and they had tried to make the best of it.

“So you love him,” Annie says.

Bertholdt nods. “I love him, he is my best friend.”

“Whom you have sex with,” she adds.

“We don’t!” Bertholdt exclaims while his cheeks stain red. “It’s just– making out and some other stuff. But not sex.”

“Would you do it if he asked, though?”

“I…” he considers this. “I would not.” Annie raises an eyebrow inquisitively.

”Fooling around is one thing. At that moment, it was nice to be desired by someone. And it feels good, for sure!” he explains. “But it has never been something serious. It’s not a relationship. And anyway, after what we —you and I…”

With the sun going down, the air has cooled down considerably but Bertholdt is still perspiring profusely from the intense conversation. He pulls on the neck of his shirt to wick the sweat from his face, and Annie’s eyes are immediately drawn to the bare skin of his belly uncovered for a second.

“It’s so, _so_ different when you have feelings for the person you are with. I–I mean, it probably doesn’t sound genuine after what Reiner and I did on that night. But it was so unlike when I was with you. Reiner was all over me and my mind just kept going back to you.”

“I see,” Annie says. 

“Sorry, that was too much information, maybe? What I mean is— I guess what I mean is... I realized I only want to be with you.”

Her heart leaps again, and she turns to look at him so quickly she almost cracks her neck. It’s plain to see it had taken everything he had to be able to say those words. 

“I… As long as you’ll have me, that is,” he adds quickly.

“Yes, of course,” she manages to say and looks down.

His hand is still on top of hers, and both of them are flushed a deep crimson red due to his words.

This peculiar conversation that had started with her asking him if he wanted to have sex. _‘God, why can’t he ever just say a simple ‘no’ and leave it at that?’_ She had been irate not more than two minutes ago, and now with his most recent revelation, she is emotionally whiplashed.

“What is it like? Being with someone you like?” Annie asks

He smiles delightedly to himself as the memories flood his mind and elaborates. “It feels like you are melting, and everything is warm and cozy and just a little bit woozy, like being half asleep under a heavy blanket. It feels like your heart will burst open at any moment because it’s too full of happiness.”

She closes her eyes and tries to imagine the feeling of her chest erupting with joy, but she doesn’t think what she’s getting is quite right. It’s a bit lower than her chest, right around her stomach, and it feels more like flutters than swelling.

There is a sloshing sound and Annie takes her hand back on instinct, then opens her eyes to see Connie, Jean, Samuel, and Reiner all sopping wet and waddling towards them. Perceiving their evil intentions, she stands up and takes a few steps back. In a matter of seconds, the boys surround the uneasy Bertholdt. Reiner tackles him and pins him against the tree, and the other three restrain him and take off his boots and jacket before dragging him to the water fully clothed. Everyone cheers.

\- 3 - 

That night, Annie lays on her bed, trying hard to ignore the gaggle of female cadets on the other side of the dorm. She had been trying to summon the feeling Bertholdt had described earlier without much luck. An excited collective gasp is produced by the girls.

“What?! No way, Lillian.”

“Already? But you _just_ started dating!”

“So?”

“Isn’t it too soon?”

“Is it? We had been pretty close since before, so…”

Annie glances at the lively group. Lillian is at the center of it, which doesn’t surprise her. Since she started dating Nac, she has been relaying every single detail of their relationship to her friends (and whoever is close enough to listen at the moment, really).

This means Annie knows far too many details about the boy’s body, including the size of a certain appendage between his legs by virtue of sleeping in the same room as her. While the gossip part of it was of no interest to her, it was the beginning of a larger conversation in which other girls participated eagerly. The sister of someone works in a brothel, so she has some insight on what _‘good’_ sex is. Sasha, with all her eccentricities, also has a lot of experience because, as she puts it, “there was never much to do in my village, so it just kind of happened with the few kids around my age” and she just kept going at it with other cadets upon arriving. 

She is never as blunt or as explicit as Lillian, only barely hinting at who her multiple beaus are. However, she contributes with a very pertinent piece of information that catches Annie’s attention.

“It’s a white flower called _‘baby cobweb’_. And it does, it kind of looks like a web. Anyway, you boil it and drink it as a tea daily, one week before and one week after sex. That’s how my ma —my mother, I mean— and the other women in Dauper avoid getting pregnant when they don’t want to.”

“One week before? But that… It takes a lot of planning, no? What if it’s something more spontaneous?” Lillian asks.

“Yes, it does need a bit of preparation. Pa —I mean, my father— and the other men in the village went for days-long trips, so I guess it was easier for them to make plans accordingly,” Sasha muses.

“There’s always the safe days method,” another girl offers. “In the end, it’s the same, though. You kind of have to plan the activities around a certain time.”

“That is true…”

“What about pulling out?”

There are a few snorts and a high-pitched guffaw. “No one _ever_ wants to pull out, don’t count on it in the heat of the moment!”

Annie grunts with annoyance. It’s not often that she regrets being a girl —all in all, she considers it is not quite that different— but the whole ‘getting pregnant’ thing is something that really pisses her off. 

Stupid, stupid, Bertholdt has to worry about everything and now here she is getting all worked up because he is too responsible to have sex without having a pregnancy prevention plan. The worst part is, she will go along with it because she cannot stop fantasizing about having sex with him (and it’s not just the sex, though those feelings are the easiest to identify and accept). 

She should be angry that he had accepted Reiner’s advances right after they had been together, but she rationalizes that it is thanks to that intense contrast that Bertholdt realized he only wanted to be with her.

The warm fuzzies that bloom in her belly whenever she recalls him saying those exact words bother her. _‘I only want to be with you’_ is technically a neutral statement. If he wants to do it with other people or just with her, that should be his problem; nothing to do with her.

It’s not neutral, though. It’s a trigger that brings forward a cabal of memories: Bertholdt laying his head on her lap and confirming he loves her. Bertholdt humming a nostalgic song while cleaning up the dishes. Bertholdt’s eyes darting back and forth, stealing furtive glances as she ate the milk pie. Bertholdt mumbling a string of sweet nothings peppered with kisses in the stables.

There is a faint ache in her heart, a desire to see his face and… just have him next to her? They don’t have to do anything, really. Not even talk. In fact, not talking would be best, given both their awkward timing when conversing. With everything that has happened lately, she has realized how much his presence means to her.

It’s curious, because he is both imperceptible (in the sense that it does not bother her), and yet when he is not present she longs for him. 

“Like air,” Annie murmurs to herself. No one else in the room is close enough to hear it, and she’s glad because as soon as the words spring from her lips she blushes at her own sappiness. 

A shriek of laughter from the girls on the other side of the room makes her jump as if she had been caught. She gives a low growl of irritation and returns her mind to the initial train of thought: pregnancy prevention.

She decides on figuring out her safe days, as going around collecting flowers would be so out-of-character for her it would not be hard for other girls to notice her intentions. She is currently on the third day of her period, so she calculates it should be around the day of their graduation and their fateful trip to Trost.

\- 4 - 

The graduation ceremony for the Training Corps, Southern Division is usually held in the Military Headquarters inside the Trost District. Due to logistics, though, this year it would be hosted in the training camp, and several members of the Garrison and the Scout regiments arrive early in the day to get a head start on the paperwork.

Everyone is in high spirits, but the real reason for the excitement is the announcement of the top ten cadets of the generation, the only ones who’d be able to apply directly to the Military Police inside Wall Sheena.

Bertholdt is quite nervous, as their whole plan is set around the three of them joining the MP. There could be a workaround, but the thought of being separated from Reiner and Annie makes his stomach churn uncomfortably. Seeing his troubled expression, Ymir assures him that with the number of dumbasses in the generation, he would still be able to fail his way to the top 10 with his eyes closed. 

During the ceremony, the cadets line up as usual. There are a number of long-winded, tedious speeches given by officers that almost bore them to death, but when Keith Shadis steps to the front of the formation (no one had ever been so glad to see Keith Shadis), they all straighten up with renewed excitement.

One by one, they top ten cadets march to the front as their names are bellowed by their instructor.

"Mikasa Ackerman."

No surprise there.

"Reiner Braun."

Reiner can't help but give a smug, relieved smile. Bertholdt and Annie know it's not only from the relief of their plan going smoothly. He is Soldier Reiner, genuinely proud of his achievement after working his ass off for three years.

"Bertholdt Hoover."

His heart leaps at his name, though his expression remains neutral. He will not feel at ease until Annie's name is mentioned. She had a tendency to cut corners and skip training, and while she assured him they didn't count toward their final grade, it still didn't assuage his fears.

"Annie Leonhart."

Oh. That was fast.

Annie takes her place next to him and gives him a side look, quirking her eyebrow. _'See?'_ Bertholdt's mouth twitches slightly but manages to keep the grin under control.

"Eren Yeager".

Eren’s body is practically vibrating. He strides to the front in earnest excitement, his chest puffed and his eyes sparkling.

"Jean Kirschtein."

"Marco Bott."

"Connie Springer."

"Sasha Blouse."

Bertholdt is surprised that both Connie and Sasha are ranked higher than Ymir. Surely…

"Krista Lenz."

There is a general murmur at the mention of her name. Krista steps forward nervously, not fully believing she actually made the cut. What surprises Bertholdt is not the presence of Krista, who is a fairly good soldier on her own merit. It's the lack of Ymir.

"Tomorrow, you will apply for your assignments and today marks the end and the disbanding of the 104th training squad. Over!"

As soon as they are given permission to break the formation, Connie and Sasha hug each other and give a loud "Woo-hoo!!!" Jean hangs an arm around Marco and shouts "We made it!" while pumping his fist.

"Eren! Mikasa!" calls Armin to his friends while racing to reach them and the three of them hug and laugh merrily.

Ymir also makes her way to the front, then lifts Krista and spins her around. Krista gives Ymir a quick kiss on the cheek, and the taller girl blushes and messes her hair playfully.

Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie are the only ones left standing somewhat awkwardly, exchanging glances between each other. After a few seconds, Reiner grins and moves between them, then pulls them into a hug.

"We did it!" he says, then places his hands on each of their heads. "We are so close," he adds softly, but the enthusiasm is still present.

Annie surprisingly leans her head against Reiner's chest. She still hates him, but she decides to leave that small detail aside for a few moments as his words reach her.

"We are so close," she echoes and wraps her arms halfway around her comrades’ broad middles.

Bertholdt is so elated at seeing Annie and Reiner together he can't help but smile widely and join them, completing the embrace. The last time they had done something like this had been during their first night as refugees, back in the overcrowded shelter. It’s foreign yet faintly familiar, like a long-forgotten memory that blooms unexpectedly; the feeling of being not just people pushed together by the circumstances, but _friends_.

The brief moment is interrupted by Connie and Sasha, who climb on Reiner and Bertholdt’s backs respectively and scream in triumph.

“Yeah!!! Top ten supremacy!!!”

“Military police, here we go!”

In the blink of an eye, they are surrounded by other cadets. It’s hard to keep track of what every person says or does, but congratulations are passed around with hugs, half-hugs, nudges, arm pats, fist bumps, and even a slap on the butt. They are swept by the crowd into the mess hall, where a feast is waiting for them.

This is their last dinner as trainees, their last night together before picking a military branch and being assigned to a city or town. Now that the top ten have been revealed, the excitement is now focused on the collective celebration and it carries all through the building.

A rumor quickly spreads that the malt drink is spiked with alcohol; it’s untrue, but the damage is done and the placebo effect makes the cadets rowdy and daring.

Annie, Reiner, and Bertholdt sit on one of the outer tables, away from the tumult of the central ones. Reiner glances longingly at the merry group conformed of Connie, Sasha, Eren, and several other of their friends. They are obviously having more fun than his table is, cheering and knocking their mugs together and howling outlandish toasts.

“To the rabbit family that lives under the stairs of the boys’ barracks!”

“Cheers!”

“To Eren’s eyebrows!”

“Cheers!”

“May Franz and Hannah remain virgins until marriage!”

“Cheers!”

The aforementioned couple arrives at the table red-faced and stuttering to put a stop to the slander. A few other people join in and in a team effort, they manage to lift Franz and throw him in the air again and again, recommending him to get used to it as they’d do the same in his bachelor party.

“I’ll be right back,” says Reiner without looking at them, and makes his way to the chaos of the central table. He doesn’t return.

Bertholdt and Annie observe the scene in silence, but there is so much going on at any given moment they don’t really have time to think about it too much. Every now and then people approach them and praise their accomplishment, which they awkwardly accept.

At some point, Jean and Marco sit down right in front of them. There are other cadets with them, but they don’t appear to be meaning to stay for long.

“I’m so jealous, Jean!” a boy says. “You are going straight into the Military Police.”

“Pff, of course. That is why I aimed for the top ten in the first place,” Jean responds dismissively.

Annie rolls her eyes and turns to sit sideways to avoid looking at Jean. She has half a mind to just get up and leave, but if he is going to the Military Police as well it could be valuable to keep things civil between them. She begrudgingly stays.

“Me, too. I am so happy… To be able to work for the King is an hon–” Marco begins, and then Jean interrupts him, urging him to confess that what he really wants is the comfort and leisure that comes with a Military Police position. Marco is mortified at the prospect and pushes back against his friend’s assertions.

Jean does not let it go and addresses all cadets in the vicinity, daring anyone to say they wouldn’t join the MP if given the opportunity. When no one answers and the mood becomes somber, Jean targets Bertholdt and Annie.

“What about you guys? You are in the top ten as well.”

"I-I'll apply for the Police, too," Bertholdt offers nervously. Jean's smug grin widens at the confirmation.

"So will I," Annie seconds, then glares at Jean with venom in her eyes. "But don't think for a second we are the same." Jean snorts and laughs, dismissing the edge of her words.

“Hey…”

Eren’s voice, so distinctive to everyone because he never shuts up, rings across the tables. Everyone looks at him with high hopes this will turn into a fistfight.

“You said that inside the inner walls it’s more comfortable,” Eren begins. “But the district we’re in right now used the part of the Inner Walls just a few years ago.”

He stands up to look at Jean right in the eye and then continues. “And anyway, even if you don’t move to the Inner Walls, your brains will be just as comfortable inside your head, horseface.”

From the other table, Reiner snorts his drink through his nose, spilling it all on a distraught Armin. Mikasa pulls on Eren’s sleeve as he attempts to move closer to Jean, but he yanks it away from her. Sparks of tension fly everywhere, and it’s just a matter of time before the two teens explode. Everyone is expecting Jean’s hot-headed response, but to the surprise of the room, he calmly flips his chair and elaborates on his earlier assertions.

He may be a conceited, insufferable prick, but he is able to articulate what so many others can’t: the fear and resentment of Titans, the constant threat of another attack, and the subsequent social impact of thousands of refugees and the uncertainty and poverty of life in the outer cities.

“It takes on average 30 human lives to kill a single Titan,” he continues. “How many Titans can be killed if everyone in this room joins the Survey Corps? Six? Seven? Maybe ten, given that we have been trained in combat.”

The once lively room is now gloomy as the newly-graduated cadets contemplate the gravity of the current circumstances.

“Humankind cannot win against Titans,” he concludes. As he scans around the room and sees everyone with their heads hanging, he clicks his tongue in annoyance.

"See what you did, Eren? No one will be able to sleep tonight."

Bertholdt's stomach sinks with guilt. He wonders if Annie is feeling the same. He wonders if Reiner feels… well, if Warrior Reiner feels the same.

“So what? Are you just going to give up because it’s hard, without even trying first?”

Eren gives a short speech that is surprisingly compelling given his poor reading and writing skills. Right at the end, when he talks about his dreams of being outside the Walls and exploring the world, Bertholdt regards him in a different light.

Eren’s limitless willpower has always been a source of fascination and envy to him, and he would often wonder how it would be if he had even a fraction of his drive. Now, though, he feels sorry for him. Eren has no idea what is beyond the Walls, but Bertholdt does. He has crossed seas and mountains and deserts and traveled to far-away countries, and the only constant is pain. 

Perhaps it’s because he’s jaded from being used in wars, or perhaps it’s because he cannot see the beauty of the world when he knows people are suffering. He was able to keep it under control before, when he was younger and the damage was so abstracted he didn’t really process it: it was just numbers ( _‘twenty-five thousands killed’_ ), statistics ( _‘three out of every four children orphaned since the attack’_ ), percentages ( _‘destroyed 79% of the buildings in the capital’_ ). It was not people, at least not to him, because he hadn’t seen them.

Bertholdt wonders how Eren would feel if he ever went outside and found out the cruelty that lies on the other side of the ocean. Not that _that_ would be possible. The chances of him dying in the next week are pretty high and perhaps it’s for the best, not having to be disappointed when his only dream turned out to not be what he expected.

He is so engrossed by his own train of thought he completely misses Jean’s retort and Eren’s subsequent counter. He snaps back into reality with the sound of synchronized dry punches, indicating the start of the long-awaited fistfight. This lifts the spirits of everyone immediately. Nothing like a good, ole fight between these two hot-headed bastards to keep the bad thoughts away.

"Hey, knock it off!" Reiner calls, making no real move to stop the fight.

Just as Eren winds himself up to clock Jean, Mikasa swoops in and carries Eren away.

Jean, who is twice as angry at not being able to kick Eren's ass _and_ the fact that Mikasa is carrying him ( _'goddammit-i-am-so-jealous'_ ), attempts to go after them. Franz and Hannah get in his way, and he settles with screaming insults to the flailing Eren.

It doesn't take long for Shadis to send them off to their dorms. The next day would be a busy day, as the now-graduates would be traveling to Trost and joining the military branch of their choice.

The mess hall empties slowly. There is no real hurry in the youths as they bid each other goodnight and goodbye, moving from one group of people to another for a quick chat or to wish congratulations. For many of them, this would be the last time they’d see each other, and —unbeknownst to them— not due to their assignment or choice of military branch.

Bertholdt and Annie stay glued to their seats, observing the carefree actions of their comrades of three years. They scan their faces and match them with names. Hannah Diamant. Franz Kefka. Thomas Wagner. Marco Bott. Connie Springer. Sasha Blouse. Faces. Faces with names. Faces with families and friends and hopes and dreams.

They are not faces, though. They are humans. How many of them will have to perish in Trost? In any subsequent attack? As refugees? In a famine?

A small group of girls walks to the exit between bouts of laughter. Mina is there, and when she spots Annie, she grins and waves before leaving. 

Bertholdt can sense her tensing up, as her back straightens and her grip on the mug tightens.

“Annie?”

She doesn't answer, but when the exit is clear and only a handful of people remain in the room, she stands up abruptly with the clear intent of leaving.

He extends his arm to stop her but, as usual, she is just out of his reach. She leaves without a word, but his hand hangs in the air while his fingers curl to grip the place she had occupied just a moment ago. He hesitates for a moment but decides to go after her, if only to see where she is heading.

Outside there are several groups of cadets, all in their uniforms, but it’s easy to identify Annie as she’s the only one actually running. She moves to the path leading to the plateau, which means she’ll be going to the forest.

Bertholdt considers what to do next. Reiner is still inside the mess hall chatting with Connie, who is waiting for Sasha to collect whatever leftovers she can salvage, and he will probably want to keep socializing with his friends. 

His heart urges him to follow Annie and offer whatever comfort he can manage to give her. His brain, on the other hand, compels him to mind his own business. Does she need _or_ want comfort from him, or would he just be pressuring her to accept his clumsy attempts just because he feels bad for her?

He is about to resign himself once again and just make his way to the boys’ barracks when a high-pitched scream catches his attention. It’s Armin’s voice.

“Eren!”

It comes from somewhat far away, but he can make out the shape of Eren crouching on the ground with his hand on his head. Around him are Mikasa, Armin, and an older soldier with the Garrison uniform. The alarm in their voices increases, and then Eren collapses. “Eren!” they all cry at the same time.

Bertholdt makes his way to the group, concerned about Eren’s wellbeing.

“What happened? Is he alright?”

“We don’t know. Eren was fine one moment, and then he said he had a huge headache and collapsed,” Armin explains with agitation.

“He’s fine,” Mikasa says in her usual flat tone, but with a distraught expression. “He’s fine, he just fainted. It has happened before.”

At these words, the older soldier pipes in: “I’m sorry, I forgot how he gets when...”

Mikasa brusquely scoops Eren in her arms and stands up, then informs them she’ll take him to his bed to rest. They all stare at her.

“Um… do you need help? The boys’ dorm is–” Bertholdt starts, then trails off as Mikasa ignores him and carries Eren in the direction of the barracks.

“I’ll go with them,” Armin says. “Thanks, Bertholdt”

“I didn’t do anything...” Bertholdt says softly as Armin catches up to his friends.

The soldier places a hand on his shoulder, and Bertholdt turns to see the man.

“Don’t worry, kid. That Eren is made of some powerful stuff. He probably got a little sad about his dad. He was a doctor, you know? Saved half of Shiganshina from the flu.”

“Oh,” Bertholdt replies. The man looks like a talker, and he immediately feels uncomfortable.

“Yup. I’ve known those three kids all their lives and they are thick as thieves, they are."

“Yes, I always see them together,” Bertholdt agrees, physically unable to be impolite.

The man squeezes Bertholdt’s shoulder before letting it go. “I miss that. The strength of friendship that comes so naturally to young people. I bet you have some very special people in your life, my boy. Cherish your friends. Next thing you know, you’ll be an old man like me, just letting life pass you by.”

“Thank you for the advice, sir,” Bertholdt says, grateful that the conversation had been short.

The man raises his arms to stretch, then walks in the direction of the administrative buildings.

Bertholdt remembers he had been about to leave for the dorms himself, but the words _‘Cherish your friends’_ resonate within him.

He glances at the forest. Tonight would be the last night they ever spent in the training camp. When they join the MP, it would be all city all the time, and he sighs. He would really miss living in the countryside with its forest and lake and plains. So he takes the path Annie had followed before, but he is not looking for her, he’s doing it for his sake (and even if he was looking for Annie, he wouldn’t be able to find her if she didn’t want to be found).

Unlike her, Bertholdt is not as eager to hide from the world. Within him lives a constant desire to be found, which he cannot explain or understand but would often keep him awake at night.

His body knows the way to the Warriors’ meeting place, a tranquil clearing overlooking the lake. When he arrives, though, the place makes memories of the Warrior’s plan to surface, taking the place of the serenity he had acquired from the walk in the woods.

The next day, they would leave for Trost. Mobilizing the cadets, more than two hundred of them, would take the better part of the day. At night, they would be given a briefing of the career opportunities in each branch of the military. The morning after that, Bertholdt and Reiner would repeat the attack they had executed on Wall Maria five years ago.

“This will put pressure on the monarchy,” Reiner assures them. “It will be a matter of weeks and then we’ll overtake the Founder.”

Reiner goes on and on about saving the world, and that is all fine and well, of course, but _‘the world’_ is such an abstract concept (numbers, percentages, statistics) in the face of real people you’ve been close to being massacred. Everything in this place reminds him of those late-night discussions, talking casually about the deaths of thousands of humans. He feels sick and is compelled to keep on moving, to get away from there fast.

The sky is clear, and the moon, though not full, is radiant and illuminates the forest with a comforting glow. He follows the path down to the lake. This is a different route than the one the cadets usually take, and the part of the beach he arrives at is more gravel than sand. There are no trees here, but there is a large slab of smooth rock. It’s cold, but he considers a cold ass is more tolerable than a sore ass from sitting on a bunch of pointy pebbles. 

Once he sits down, he hugs his knees. Maybe it’s because the lake reminds him of his comrades, but his thoughts shift to the words the Garrison soldier had given him.

‘ _Cherish your friends._ ’ Emphasis on _cherish_.

He does. At least he thinks he does. Cherish means to protect and to care and to hold someone in your heart, and there is nothing more he wishes for than to do that. He hopes that is enough for them.

‘ _Cherish your friends._ ’ Emphasis on _your_.

His. He rejects the notion of ‘ _his’_ . Being inside of the military since childhood has removed most of the notion of ownership, of control. If anything, he is _theirs_. He belongs to Marley. He belongs to the cursed Eldian race. Most importantly, he belongs to Annie and to Reiner.

‘ _Cherish your friends._ ’ Emphasis on _friends_.

He wants to. He really does want to cherish his friends. It’s just hard, trying to keep Reiner present and then Annie who wants nothing to do with them most of the time… But it isn’t only Reiner and Annie. It’s Ymir and Krista and Sasha. Marco, Armin, Connie, Jean, Eren, even Mikasa. And Mina, Samuel, Franz, Hannah, Thomas, and… and...

God, damn everything. Damn everything. Damn his mind and damn himself. He doesn’t want to do it again, not again. There has to be another way. He doesn’t want to go on with the plan, but he has to. They are so close. It will only take a minute to kick the wall again. There _has_ to be another way.

There is such a conflict inside him tearing him up between two very different sides that, for a moment, he thinks he will become like Reiner and tears well up in his eyes. 

_‘No, no, no. Please, no.’_

His throat and chest tighten and everything inside him burns.

_'Don’t be weak. Don’t be weak.'_

The feeling becomes so oppressive that he can’t just sit there. He takes off his jacket in one swift, violent motion and throws it on the ground with force. He strips down to his underwear, removing every piece of clothing with a grunt and something akin to hatred.

Bertholdt stomps to the edge of the water, the small rocks and gravel digging painfully into the soles of his feet. He gets in the water; the icy liquid feels sharp like a blade against his warm skin, but it’s that piercing feeling is what makes it effective. His mind is forced to rid itself of any thought that is not immediately about the temperature.

He moves further inside and now it's hard to breathe, and that's exactly what he wants. When the water reaches his navel, he plunges down, disappearing beneath the surface with only a few ripples as proof of his presence.

_'You only have seven more years. Annie and Reiner only have seven more years. You have to get back home.'_

He counts up to fifty and emerges, gasping for oxygen. The cool air makes his body tense up and shiver almost painfully. He wraps his hands around his arms and runs them up and down, using the friction to shake off the water and warm him up. He wades back fighting against the heaviness of the water and has half a mind to use his Titan power to raise his body temperature to dry himself faster.

As he gets close to the shore, he realizes there is someone sitting on the slab. He blinks off the water droplets hanging from his lashes and recognizes Annie.

"Hey," she says casually.

Her presence makes Bertholdt both relieved and flustered. He walks in the direction of the slab she is sitting on, and he is almost certain she is eyeing his body up and down. There is still a part of his mind that thinks it’s impossible that she’d have such an interest in him, but he crosses his arms over his chest and hunches for modesty’s sake.

She raises an eyebrow.

"What, you're shy now? After all we've done?"

He doesn't answer, but moves closer to the slab and reaches for his clothes. Annie places her hand over his to stop him and he does, frowning in confusion. She wastes no time and proceeds to remove her own clothing, starting with her jacket.

"Wh-Annie?!"

"So you don't get all flustered on me," she says as she kicks off her boots. “We’ll be the same.”

"You don't have to…"

"I want to," she says flatly, then shimmies her pants off and finally removes her hoodie.

She stands in front of him in just her underwear, and his pulse quickens at the sight of her pale skin. She’s not wearing the military bodice, but a light blue camisole so thin that makes her cold-hardened nipples very obvious. He shakes his head to regain his ability to speak, a few cold droplets falling down from his wet head, and says, "Sure, that is fine. Just fine."

They both sit on the slab, cold and hard against their bare skin. At this, Bertholdt makes his temperature rise on command and a light mist surrounds him as the remaining dampness evaporates. 

Annie scoots over closer to him and places her hand on his arm. He flinches a little, then calms down. His skin is soft and plump, the way people are after getting out of cold water. She squishes his arm, and he chuckles.

"What are you doing?"

"I don't know. It feels cute."

His face gets hot and it has nothing to do with what he is doing to dry himself. He wants to tell her _she_ is cute but doesn't.

"Why did you get into the lake?" she asks after several seconds.

Bertholdt thinks about how to explain it without sounding like he is losing his mind.

"I'm nervous about the plan. People are... I am going to kill people."

"Hmm," she grunts in solidarity. "You don't want to complete the mission?"

"No, I–" he begins to justify his words, then stops. It is a reflex from years of Marleyan indoctrination, which showed very little tolerance for any defiance or opposition, even from children. He sighs dejectedly as he realizes it, and accepts his feelings with defeat. "I don't. I don't want to do it, but I have to. If not, we will not be able to return home."

Annie's hand is still on his arm, and he feels her grip tighten slightly. "It's the same for me," she admits. "I have no interest in any of the politics of it all, and I certainly do not have any interest in contributing to the deaths of people. But I'll do it."

Her voice cracks slightly, and she takes a few seconds to compose herself.

"It has been five years, Bertholdt. I will do whatever it takes."

Their eyes meet and he gives her a wry smile. "We should have probably gotten together before. To talk, I mean! I feel better knowing that it's not just me."

"What about Reiner?"

"Wh-what about him?" he asks with a slightly higher pitch than his own.

Annie looks at him strangely. "I thought that, among the _wide variety of activities_ you two do together,” she says pointedly, “you’d set aside some time to talk about this crap."

“We do, sometimes,” he answers bashfully, not missing the emphasis in her words, “but it’s always about world-saving. I end up not saying much and… it somehow becomes another conversation. Or we start doing push-ups.”

Annie snorts. “Push-ups? Like, real push-ups or is that a weird sex thing?”

“Real push-ups,” Bertholdt confirms, mortified. “He always says that when you’re upset, you just have to do some push-ups and you’ll forget everything. It does work.”

“He must be angry all of the time,” Annie comments.

He shrugs. “Maybe not angry, but I do think he gets impatient with me sometimes. I… have to keep it together.”

Annie purses her mouth. Her last comment was meant as a joke about Reiner’s bulky physique, but Bertholdt hadn’t gotten it and now she feels bad.

“We _all_ have to do better,” she says, attempting to lighten the mood. “And you’re very capable, you just have to…”

She trails off. Of course, her advice is _‘you just have to act upon it’_ , and that is the problem. She knows very well how it feels: her mind screaming to do something but her body will simply not execute the order. She suspects it’s not a simple matter of willpower, not when it involves murder.

“Sorry, I got nothing,” she says. 

He smiles —not at her but at the sky. Annie remembers how he had insisted on her secret innate kindness and goes on, taking the risk to believe his image of her if only for right now. Just because it’s him.

“You know I don’t like Reiner, but he… he cares about you so much, that is fairly obvious. And I guess being frustrated with each other is normal, even between best friends?”

He glances at her with a neutral expression, and she gets flustered. Who does she think she is to talk about friendship? This is what happens when she tries to be kind. Even she would not believe the sincerity of her words. It’s just not _her_.

“Nevermind, I don’t know what I’m talking about. I am always alone, I don’t know a thing about being friends or having them,” she mutters hastily.

They both sit in silence for a little while.

"I think we all are alone, in the end," Bertholdt says, breaking the silence. “Having one friend or none, or having a lot of friends and family… I don’t think it matters.”

He is surprisingly affable as he speaks, as if the nihilism in his words is not depressing. "But it's precisely because of that that we must help each other.”

Annie blinks. “Was that supposed to be comforting or…?”

“Ah… I guess not, not really,” Bertholdt shrugs, embarrassed. “What I meant…”

He pauses. “Cherish your friends. You and Reiner are my best friends, and I just… I want to be back home with both of you and see your smiles.”

Annie’s heart wrenches. She has never had any thought regarding _all_ of them back home together, least of all smiling. If she’s perfectly honest, she has only thought about _her_ returning to Marley. Bertholdt and Reiner had never figured in her ideations. She just assumes they will be there when it happens. 

“Thanks, Bertholdt.”

He beams at her. He means every word; seeing them smiling would be enough for him and she is in awe at his earnest selflessness. Annie wonders what it would be like, to think like that. Could she ever change from the little wretch she considers herself to be, to someone who is able to care for others? Maybe if she eats him?

She is taken aback by her own thought because as soon as it crosses her mind, she is flooded by a distinct need to sink her teeth on his shoulder.

Bertholdt shuffles around, somewhat flustered from her thanking him, oblivious to Annie’s inner turmoil.

“We should put our clothes back on,” he proposes.

When her immediate reaction is a resolute “no”, she finally understands. She doesn’t want to eat him… she’s just turned on (by his kindness?).

"Warm me up," she says.

He blushes. Her words carry multiple meanings, from the downright perverted to the more innocent ones —though the innocence is debatable considering their current state of undress.

Bertholdt doesn’t protest. His recent interactions with Annie have helped him get used to being physically close to her, but he’s still shy about it. He moves behind her and surrounds her small body with his arms and legs and leans forward, fully covering her back and resting his chin on her shoulder.

"Is this good?" he asks.

"Mhmm," she answers and settles into the warm embrace. "Very nice."

They stay in that position for several minutes in absolute silence, enjoying the feeling of skin against skin. 

"What do you want to do when we return home?" Bertholdt asks.

"Absolutely nothing," Annie responds immediately.

She wants nothing more than to be alone. Talk with her father, a little. Maybe. She still cannot imagine what her home life would be like, now that both she and her father have had a change of heart. Other than that, she has no real plans or dreams. Never has.

"I just want to get home and sleep for three full years," she says after thinking for a bit. "It's exhausting, being alive." 

There is very little chance of that happening. They are part of the military and will be squeezed dry for as long as possible. When their time is over, they will be eaten by their successors. That is if their usefulness during battles or as subjects of study and experimentation does not diminish before that. 

No, they are not _part_ of the military. They are its _property_. Weapons with an expiration date, ready to be traded for another one —new and shiny and brimming with loyalty— at the first sign of insubordination. Reiner and Bertholdt and she had been those very kids once.

Five years had passed since that moment. Five years wasted.

At the first sign of her mind taking a turn into the dark place she often ends up in, she nudges him so that Bertholdt lifts his head from her shoulder and then leans back into his chest. He closes his arms around her and she is engulfed by a powerful feeling of relief, as if she had been holding her breath for a long, long time and could finally inhale mouthfuls of oxygen.

 _‘Like air,’_ she thinks.

She is alone, but she is not alone. Because he is there and he is not there. And it shouldn't have to be him, but at the same time, it can only be him. 

The logical conclusion hits her, sudden and hard. She wants to close her mind, to stop the thought from forming (It’s a small word: four letters, one syllable. Rolls off the tongue with ease, but it’s nearly impossible to coax out of her heart).

Her heart is hammering against her ribs, and her stomach is full of butterflies, and every place he touches is on fire. Is this how it feels for Bertholdt, being around her? _‘Is this how it feels?’_

She had been trying for a while to emulate the feeling for the past couple of weeks just to see what it felt like, but she finds she hates it. She can’t control it or turn it off, and the fact that someone can evoke this vulnerability in her is baffling to say the least. She hates it but her body loves it. She swears she can feel every single cell of her body drowning in the rush of dopamine.

“Fuck, how do you do it?!” she growls as she wrangles herself free from his embrace, then moves off of the slab into the sandy gravel. The sudden loss of his body heat almost shocks her out of her inner unrest.

“What?” he asks, thoroughly confused at her outburst. “Is everything alright?”

She squats, hugs her knees, and sighs. _‘Why am I resisting so much? It’s not the end of the world. Almost everyone has fallen in… No!’_

She can hear Bertholdt moving right behind her. He crouches and places her jacket on her back to ward off the cold. No, it’s his jacket (it’s too big and it actually covers her entire back). As her eyes fall on him, his worried face makes her timid.

She pulls the jacket so that it covers her shoulders completely. It is a poor replacement for his body heat, but he proceeds to run his hand up and down her back to warm her up with the friction. The gesture is sweet and caring, and her face and ears get very hot.

Annie shifts her body, moving her head close to his. They haven’t kissed in weeks, and the proximity of their almost bare bodies now makes the hair on the back of her neck stand. His concerned face softens as he notices her intentions, and he leans down but doesn’t close the distance. They both bask in the anticipation of the incipient kiss, with knots in their bellies and quickening heartbeats. 

Annie’s eyes dart all over his face, and it’s his blushing cheeks, his fluttering eyelashes, the green of his eyes, the way his hair falls on his forehead, it’s everything drawing her to him. As the tips of their noses touch, they both tremble and a tiny whine of pure desire escapes his lips. That is what finally pulls them together.

It could very well have been an explosion. She practically flings herself at him, and had he not been a sturdy young man they would be rolling in the gravel already.

They have kissed plenty before this, but this is her first kiss with the feelings and it _is_ different, and it _does_ feel like she is melting. _‘So this is how it has been for Bertholdt all along. No wonder...’_

She straight-up licks his lips, and he swears he sees stars. He pulls her into an embrace and stands up with her, spinning around once. She breaks the kiss with an unexpected squeal and he beams at her, and she can’t help but return it with a lopsided smile.

“Put me down you… you… dork!” she demands in mock annoyance, and the humor in her voice makes his heart soar. He bites his lower lip, a helpless grin on his face.

He lays her small frame onto the slab they had been sitting on previously, and she leans back.

“Wait a moment,” he says, and she sits.

He gathers their discarded clothes and lays them over the cold rock, forming a sort of blanket.

“It should help somewhat so that it’s not so cold and hard,” he explains.

“How considerate,” she teases and pulls him to her so that they lay side-by-side.

Despite their initial franticness, they settle into a slow rhythm that borders on the syrupy with its tender exploration. Everything they had done so far now seems too hurried, too expectant, too eager to please in contrast to this. It almost feels like their first time together.

He brushes a thumb along her cheek, then moves his hand down, down, agonizingly slow. He tucks it beneath the waistband of her underwear and runs it along the smooth skin and she sighs.

Bertholdt takes advantage of the pause to give a long lick from her collarbone to her right earlobe, making Annie’s eyes roll. Her skin has a very faint taste of salt and the smokiness of the bonfires from the disbanding ceremony. Her smell, though. Her smell is intoxicating —he wishes he could wax poetic about how she smells like sunshine and peaches, but the reality is something rawer: it’s the musky remnants of her leather jacket, sweat, and the rich, creamy balm of what he has come to recognize as her natural odor. His mouth salivates and he has to gulp it to avoid drooling as he opens his mouth.

He runs the tip of his tongue along the helix of her ear and she arches her back instantly. As he places tiny kisses on the side of her neck and nuzzles her cheek with his lips and nose, she finds herself wanting him to whisper something sweet into her ear, but can’t find the words to ask for it.

To hush this deprived and unknown part of her she needs him to make her body feel more, so she guides his head to her chest. She pulls down her camisole and Bertholdt wastes no time before diving in, taking one of the nipples between his lips and licking it gently. She moans and undulates against him.

This is it. This is what finally makes both of them hungry with want, a desire to devour the other completely.

The thumb he has hooked to her underwear moves sideways, from her hip bone to just below her navel, and Annie squirms as it brushes the nest of curls tentatively. Her thighs spread without her having to think about it, and his hand reaches down without him having to think about it.

Annie gasps at the initial contact against her swollen clit. Bertholdt strokes it very gently before moving down to dip his finger in her folds. He suddenly pulls his hand away and removes his lips from her breast. She is confused at the sudden pause.

“You’re wet,” he informs her, shocked.

She gives him a perplexed look. “Yeah, that’s what happens.”

“N-no, I know _that_. It’s just…” he stammers, then looks down at his hand, just slightly sticky with her juices. “It’s amazing.” His cock jumps at the idea of being surrounded by warm, tight wetness.

“Don’t make it weird,” she says. “Plus, you’re hard, so we’re basically ready.”

“Oh…”

He considers this.

“Annie, I don’t want you to think I don’t want this because I do, very much, but about the–”

“It’s fine, it’s a safe day,” she says. She is about 80% sure, anyway.

He raises his eyebrows. “Oh, okay then.”

“Good. Then let’s do it,” she pronounces, taking off her drawers and camisole. Bertholdt follows suit and in a matter of seconds, they are both fully naked.

After the initial somersault her stomach does at the sight of his erect cock, Annie is able to regain her composure and observes the organ with distinct interest. Bertholdt covers his face with his hands, something Annie had already expected to happen.

Her experience with penises —or genitals, in general— is nonexistent apart from the biology coursework in Marley, so she appraises it without much to compare it to. _‘It’s large’_ , she thinks, though she already expected that due to his height. Is penis size proportional to the height of the male? Perhaps he is not really big but average-sized? Does it even matter, given how much smaller she is compared to him? In that moment, her mind makes the connection that _it_ is supposed to go inside of her, and that makes her womanhood clench in anticipation.

“You’re so pretty, Annie.”

She snaps out of her daze and turns to him. Bertholdt looks like he is two seconds away from crying and his breaths are long and deep and more like sighs than anything. The gaze of pure yearning for her makes Annie realize he hadn’t been covering his face due to his nakedness, but due to hers.

“Thanks,” she wheezes, then clears her throat. “You… you, too.”

Her attention had been focused on the penis because it was a novelty. Now she takes in Bertholdt as a whole, and he is beautiful. The smooth, brown skin and the sharp definition of muscle and bone; the commanding imposition of his height and the soft, compassionate gaze of his eyes; the efficient, accurate aloofness and his eagerness to be of assistance. Everything that makes him Bertholdt stands in contraposition to another attribute.

They’re shy again, but the promise of skin-to-skin contact sparks them into action.

After two false-starts, Annie moves so that they are sitting next to each other and leans on him. Her breasts are pressed to his arm, and a small “ah” escapes from his lips. She reaches between his legs and carefully closes her hand around Bertholdt’s cock, barely managing to circle it completely. She is surprised at the supple skin in contrast to the rigidness that makes it stand almost vertically. 

He emits a sound like he has been punched in the stomach; then, softer moans as she moves her fingers, still loosely curled on the girth, up and down. Now she is able to see the whole area more closely. The balls, which look tight and heavy; the thick black hairs that populate the area; the shiny, swollen head that is leaking precum. And then the smell. It is not exactly pleasant in the way flowers or delicious food smell good, but it’s so enticing that it makes her want to bury her face in his chest, in his hair, between his legs and just fill her lungs with it. Her body is reacting to it so positively that it moves on its own, guided by the lizard part of her brain.

Annie tightens her grip, moving her hand with short but quick strokes. Bertholdt hisses and throws his head back, using all of his will (which is not as small as he thinks it is) to keep his grasp in reality.

“Annie, p-please,” he whimpers. “If you do that I’ll… I’m gonna…” he tries to explain.

“That’s the point, no?” she counters in what she hopes is her usual disinterested tone, though a hint of amusement and intent to tease is present.

“Ah–! But I… I want to–” 

Annie stops suddenly at those words. “What do you want, Bertl?”

He bites his lip as his nickname drips from her lips in a way that is beyond erotic to him.

“I–”. His gaze falls to the place where her legs meet. His cock jumps and twitches as he remembers the softness of her mound, the wetness of her folds, the silkiness of her golden curls. And, God, the taste.

“What do you want, Bertl?” she asks again. 

“Inside of you,” he croaks and clears his dry throat. “I want to be inside of you… so bad.”

She swings her leg across his lap and in a second she is straddling him and his erection is sandwiched between their abdomens. They moan, Bertholdt due to the delicious friction against Annie’s abs, and Annie because her body is screaming for it to be inside of her.

They pant against each other’s parted lips. It’s not a kiss, but it’s so desperate it heightens the thrill and renders Bertholdt pliable to whatever her pleasure may be. 

She shifts and takes his member to align it with her entrance. They both feel woozy at the immediate situation as their blood rushes from one part of their bodies to another. She licks her lips nervously and lowers herself, then moves around trying to find a way in. It finally seems to happen, an angle with enough give to allow for the hardness to be pushed inside, but it’s only a couple of centimeters inside when it stops.

Annie moves around some more and it’s evident it will not move further like that, and her mind races to find a solution. She knows vaginas have a certain slant to them and it’s just a matter of changing positions, but she is so desperate and her mind so filled with lust she can’t recall the information. She had wanted to be on top to keep whatever semblance of control she thinks she has, but at this point she doesn’t care, she just wants him inside.

“Let’s switch,” she says and hastily moves so that she is laying on her back.

Bertholdt follows suit, though not quite as quickly because it’s all so hazy. He finally positions himself between her legs, making sure to align their hips. He slides his cock along her slit, and the contact makes them shut their eyes in ecstasy. He repeats the motion again and again, and it feels amazing, but the craving her body screams for is almost deafening.

“Are you okay? Should we–?”

“Just put it in!” she impatiently demands.

Shocked into action, he finally —finally— pushes inside and is left breathless. She is warm and wet and so, so tight, and it can’t compare to anything Bertholdt has dreamed of.

It hurts Annie just a little, but being filled is a new, curious sensation. He stops, and she assumes this is where the hip-thrusting begins.

“Are you okay?” he asks again, concerned.

“Just. Go on,” she reassures him.

Bertholdt places his hands on her hips to calm himself and continues to push in, guided by an instinct to go in as far as possible. Something tears inside of Annie, and her eyes widen with the realization that that was her hymen, which isn’t really that far from the entrance and that means Bertholdt still has some way to go. As her walls are spread around him, a blunt sort of pain sets inside. Annie has known a lot of physical pain in her life, and this is not even remotely the most painful one, but the sensation of being filled and her insides pushed apart gives it an additional layer of disconcertment.

As it goes in, deeper and deeper and so slowly it seems it will never end, she thinks about how every single human ever born, even herself, comes from this primal occurrence. A brief moment of guilt over having dismissed Bertholdt’s concerns passes by, but it also grounds her. This is a shared experience by so many women, not unlike the passing ritual of the Female Titan, and she is able to rationalize the pain and the weirdness that is having someone else inside of her.

Bertholdt rests his forehead against hers, and she is pulled back to reality. He looks like he isn’t quite present himself, with half-lidded eyes full of past dreams and fantasies that have just materialized. He moves toward her, hesitates for a second, then kisses her. She can feel him throb inside her. Fuck, he is a good kisser.

“Are you okay?” he asks once more, between kisses.

“M’fine. You can move,” she confirms, hoping that the information she has acquired from all the late-night girl talks she has unwillingly listened from beginning to end proves true.

He slips out slowly and for a moment she is relieved, and then in a smooth motion pushes back it and it’s _there_. A sudden pleasure that appears and disappears almost immediately, with the vague sort of pain taking its place.

“Fuck,” Bertholdt murmurs, and he almost never swears.

He rolls his hips in a measured, easy rhythm to avoid hurting Annie. Each time he thrusts forward the pain fades a bit more and it doesn’t take long for her to feel like in a dream because it all seems so unreal and it’s happening too fast and too slow at the same time.

“Faster,” she says and it can be a command or it can be a plea, but it doesn’t matter because Bertholdt will do anything she asks of him.

Annie’s harsh breathing is vocal and high-pitched. She gives short, pointed whines every time he enters her, and she raises her hips to meet his. Her arms flail around like an octopus because she is overwhelmed and doesn’t know what to do with her limbs. She decides on a full-body hug, circling his shoulders and hips and it feels like the right choice.

Bertholdt’s skin is sticky with sweat, and she doesn’t mind —she has been through so much that sweat, blood, tears, and any other bodily fluids don’t phase her. She crosses her ankles together in a sort of lock, and the implication of her body beseeching his is too much.

“Oh, sh–! Annie–!” he growls and shakes her off, pulling out with trembling desperation and spilling his seed on her abdomen.

Her eyes are wide. She certainly did not want him to stop, and her core aches for more, but she is also fascinated at how his member spasms and ejaculates warm, thick ropes of semen that now shimmer on her belly. 

Bertholdt’s chest rises and falls dramatically, and after a few moments he gathers himself and rummages through the pockets of his jacket looking for a handkerchief.

“I’m sorry, Annie,” he says quickly, “I– you just felt so nice…” he says finally, extending the piece of cloth to her.

She gives a small smirk and takes the handkerchief. She recalls a line from the late-night conversations in the girls’ barracks: _‘My sister says virgins will come right away and then claim it’s because you feel too good,’_

Annie cleans herself up and he looks at her nervously.

“What?” she asks. It sounds meaner than she intends out of habit, but her gaze is soft and her eyebrows are slightly raised in almost playful curiosity.

“I… Um… How did– I mean, did you like…?” he asks.

She lowers her gaze and gives a tiny smile. “I did like it,” she admits, folding the cloth over and wiping around her belly button. “It was… overwhelming, actually. I never imagined it would feel so–”

She pauses, searching for the right word.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” she says with a shrug, pressing her lips into a thin line. She returns the handkerchief. "It feels like you breached my Wall Maria with your Colossal Titan."

Her tone of voice is flat, and the joke is quite dark considering how close they are to repeating the event, but it's delivered so unexpectedly that he can't stop the laughter that bubbles from within. Annie smirks, satisfied at her joke. 

She doesn't want him to feel guilty or pressured about her orgasm. She had mentally prepared for her first time to be awkward and a learning experience. They could take their time figuring out what to do to make it work.

While Bertholdt is thinking about how to best go about the situation, Annie observes studiously the now-soft penis. It was truly remarkable the size and shape difference between an erect one and… its natural state?

“How long does it take for it to be ready to go again? Your penis, I mean” she blurts out.

“A-Annie!”

She tries hard to remain casual and nonchalant, so she looks at him waiting for an answer.

“I- I’m not sure. I mean… A few minutes? I’ve never done this and I–” he explains clumsily. “Annie, if you want I can use my mouth. Y’know, like the other day… While I recover?”

Annie considers this, but it doesn’t take more than a few seconds for her to nod. “Lie back.”

He does exactly as she says, and she plants her feet on either side of his head, then slowly sinks to her knees. Her sex is a few centimeters above his face, and he can’t see clearly because the moonlight shines bright above her rendering her a dark shadow. Still, the sharp smell makes his mouth water again and his half-hard dick jump.

She lowers herself, and Bertholdt would gladly die then and there of pure happiness. He is overwhelmed by her smell, her taste, the strong and warm thighs hugging his face, and the cute, sharp breaths she emits as his tongue explores her folds. He digs his hands and fingers on the muscular plumpness of her thighs to brace himself and eats her out enthusiastically.

It takes all of one minute for him to be fully erect again, but she doesn’t notice right away.

“Can you try– your fingers?” she asks breathily, needing something to fill her up.

Bertholdt’s fingers are big and somewhat thick and calloused, so he eases one very slowly into her while his tongue flicks her clitoris vigorously.

“Oooh,” she keens loudly, and he is encouraged to start pumping in and out of her. She is as warm and wet as ever, and even though it’s just his finger, it’s as if he can feel it in his cock by proxy. His finger, however, can feel more than an ambiguous tightness. Her inner walls are ribbed and sort of spongy, but the texture changes depending on the area. Amazing.

He tries to insert another finger, but she hisses and takes his wrist to stop the motion.

“No, it’s too much. It kind of hurts,” she says, and he quickly removes his fingers, afraid of having hurt her too much.

“I’m sorry, Annie,” he apologizes.

“It’s fine,” she reassures him in her monotone voice, which isn’t very encouraging and it just seems she wants things to hurry along. 

“Oh, you’re ready. I’ll be on top this time,” she says, and quickly positions herself to sit on his cock, this time getting the angle right.

It hurts again when it goes in, but the pain subsides much faster and she now has an idea of how good it can feel so she hurries everything. 

Bertholdt is battling with his own body; his eyes close because the pleasure is too much, but his mind is intent on making them stay open to absorb every single second of the experience.

Once again, the size difference between the two Warriors doesn’t help, as her proportionally shorter legs are spread too far apart to accommodate his wide abdomen.

She considers asking him to be on top again, but fears that the position will make him come faster, and she needs this to last.

“Wait, wait,” she says.

“Wha–?” Bertholdt asks, slightly disoriented.

“I’m just gonna–” she half-explains, shifting and moving her legs and lifting him a bit —all without taking him out of her.

“Annie, what are you…?!” 

Annie has completely changed positions so that he is laying on his upper back. The lower part and his hips are raised thanks to her grip on the back of his knees, and his legs could easily be perched on her shoulders. She is still adjusting, attempting to sit on his thighs but halfway there she finds she is hitting a very nice spot and bounces up and down with renewed liveliness.

The position is clearly amazonian in nature and Bertholdt is delighted as it caters specifically to his tendency toward submission. She props his calves on her shoulders and bucks her hips fast and hard.

“Yes! Ah…! Ah!”

Bertholdt had been previously quiet, limiting himself to a few sighs and groans but mostly breathing loudly through his nose. Now he can’t seem to keep quiet, overwhelmed by the hotness of Annie fucking him thoroughly.

Annie, for her part, is also extremely aroused by the sounds and the expression of ecstasy on his face.

“Annie– Oh, Annie… I love you, Annie.“

He can’t stop saying her name, and Annie reels, certain all of her blood is pooled in her blushing face. The word _love-making_ is stuck to her mind and she insists it can’t be, but she finds that surrendering to it makes everything even more intense.

“Do you like it?” she asks, making sure to take him in deep and hard, and when he answers with a whining “Yesss,” she quivers all over.

He is overcome by her and babbles a string of sweet nonsense. “It feels so good,” and “Annie, please,” and “Take me, I’m yours”.

The high from being praised to the heavens is new and intoxicating to her mind.

He lunges in for a kiss that catches her off-balance, and he slips right out of her. He doesn’t seem to mind, cupping her face and kissing with earnest avidity. Annie’s legs tremble and she lets herself fall, sitting on her heels. His hands glide from her face to her neck, then down to her hips and stay there, clutching just the tiniest bit.

“You are so amazing,” he says, and it seems like his eyes are an extension of the starry sky as he gazes tenderly at her.

He gently lays her down with an unexpected assertiveness that is amplified in contrast to his earlier docility. Annie is suddenly shy and she averts her eyes. 

He is now on top of her and, while he carries most of his weight on his arms, the feeling of his body covering hers is delicious. With the tip of his tongue, he licks the inside of her parted lips and she flutters her eyes closed, enjoying the soft warmth. 

She opens for him and he slides effortlessly inside of her. Annie gasps, then covers her mouth with the back of her hand. It feels amazing and right, and oddly familiar and comforting.

“Bertl,” she whispers his name for the first time during sex, and Bertholdt looks elated.

He goes in deep and she wails helplessly, which encourages him to step up his pace. It’s a good thing he had come before, as this allows him to go at it without reprieve. After a while, she groans and he brightens up as he thinks she had climaxed, but she grabs one of his wrists desperately and pulls it down toward her sex.

He nods at her and gives her a small smile. “I understand”. He has to change the position slightly, moving his other arm behind her neck to have enough purchase to maneuver down there.

He clumsily attempts to draw circles with his index and middle finger, but the stimulation is too direct and his thrusts are more erratic as his attention is temporarily elsewhere.

Annie places her hand on top of his and guides his two fingers to the place she likes, demonstrating the alternating pressure and friction in the exact way she likes it. Thanks to her intervention, Bertholdt is able to renew his efforts on the lower half of his body, pounding hard and fast. Annie gives a small cry of approval, and it’s a matter of minutes before she finally feels the tightness of an orgasm building up from the inside and outside.

The position they hold is more of a half-embrace, and the way he surrounds her and their skin touches heightens the experience. The word _love-making_ is again in her mind, and she doesn’t fight it. She doesn’t fight anymore, she just moves and writhes and calls his name in her mind because she can’t speak, not at the moment. She gives a sharp, short whine and everything that had been winding between her legs snaps. Her climax explodes in trembling waves from deep within her and outward. Her whole body shakes and her hips buck again and again of their own accord, prolonging and deepening the wave of mind-numbing rapture.

Bertholdt pumps into her desperately as her walls clench and unclench, driving him over the edge. He pulls out, and a few seconds later he comes, and the semen pools in the seam of their bodies touching.

They are both breathless and blushing. When their eyes meet, they are drawn into a full-body hug. It’s sticky from the sweat and the cum, but the thought doesn’t even cross their mind. It is a reprieve, an attempt to extend the moment for as long as possible because they are afraid that as soon as they get down from the high, the mind-fuckery —awkwardness, guilt, denial, feelings of inadequacy— would creep in.

It doesn’t come. They wait and wait. He places his hand on her hip to caress it, and she plays with his hair, weaving her fingers between strands of dark silk. She asks Bertholdt to sing for her, and he does ( _‘You fill up my senses like a night in the forest, like the mountains in springtime, like a walk in the rain’_ ). She recognizes it as the one he had been humming the day she had helped him with the dishes, and he says his father used to play it for his mother on the violin.

Silence settles for a few minutes and then Annie sings, unprompted ( _‘_ _Why does the sun go on shining? Why does the sea rush to shore? Don't they know it's the end of the world?_ _’_ ). It’s just a few lines because she gets shy. He remembers the song, and he finishes it for her. It had been popular around the time they started their Warrior training and it played in every phonograph available.

They clean up and then dress up. They talk a little, but it’s fine because neither of them likes talking that much. It feels like just the right amount.

“We should probably go back,” Bertholdt says. When he had first walked into the woods, his inner turmoil made him certain he would not be able to sleep that night. Right now, though, he is pleasantly drowsy; not actively sleepy, but comfortable enough that he’d love nothing more than to curl up next to Annie and just stay there.

His mind conjures an image of waking up next to her, and his heart jumps so readily at the thought he quickly moves onto another one. He doesn’t want to be too greedy.

As they arrive at the clearing that serves as their meeting place, Annie turns on her heel and grabs Bertholdt by the collar, pulling him in and pressing her lips against his. Both of them are surprised at her forwardness, but she is desperate to stay just a little more with him. She cannot recognize herself, who had been so eager to leave all of her feelings behind that first night at the stables, and now can’t get enough.

She walks backward, leading a bent-over Bertholdt to the tree with big roots that looks like it wants to run away. Her back hits the wide trunk and she slinks down. He follows her blindly, never breaking the kiss.

They both lie on the grass, clutching and grinding and rubbing. Whatever this is, it’s extremely gratifying —both exciting in the throes of newly discovered feelings and the unfaltering comfort of someone who has been by your side all along.

Annie stops him, then gets on her knees and starts unfastening her sash. “Let’s do it again.”

Her words make the blood rush down between his legs too fast, rendering Bertholdt disoriented and dizzy. “A-again?” he echoes with a wobbly voice, but it is not a protest. He clumsily unbuckles his belt and pulls down his pants, revealing his already erect member.

After sliding her trousers and underwear mid-thigh, Annie turns and leans on the rough trunk of the tree. “From behind,” she says, her words cracking.

The sight of Annie's bare ass makes Bertholdt’s head feel heavy with want and quite disoriented. He doesn’t know how it happens, but a soft, warm, and wet feeling and Annie’s throaty moan snap him out of his daze and he begins thrusting hard and fast.

She is not exactly on all fours —their height difference requires some adjustments on their part—but the position is downright animalistic. Perhaps it’s due to that that it feels so much more exciting, and both of them stop trying to censor their moans. 

It feels quite different from before; it’s not as deep but the frantic slams of his hips reverberate inside her cunt, and the sound of skin slapping against skin drives both of them wild. He is able to slip one hand under her hoodie and shirt and caress her breast softly, making her shiver.

He hits an amazing spot that makes Annie curl her toes and swing her head back, and the timing is just right for her to knock it against Bertholdt’s jaw. Thankfully, he doesn’t bite his tongue, but his teeth crash hard and unpleasantly.

“Oow!” they both cry in pain, pulling apart and rubbing their respective areas of collision. 

“Crap, that hurt,” she mutters.

“Sorry,” Bertholdt apologizes before adding, “You have a really hard head, Annie.”

Annie looks at him wide-eyed, then snorts, giggles, and finally bursts into laughter.

After a few seconds of bewilderment, Bertholdt feels his heart swell with tenderness and love for her. He hasn’t seen her laugh in months, and this may be the first time in years she holds such uncontrollable mirth. Her face glows, light and blushing.

“I do! I have a hard head,” she manages to say between bouts of whole-hearted guffaws and snorts. She is now clutching her sides and tears form in the corners of her eyes.

It is so contagious that Bertholdt can’t help but join in. Their voices are clear and strong, and in that moment both are different people: without a painful past or a grim future, without a mission to fulfill or obligations thrust upon them. They exist in the vacuum of the forest and the starry sky. Their britches are halfway down their thighs and their hair is a mess, but they are content and without a care in the world.

When their laughter fizzles down, Bertholdt takes her hand in his and with the other one tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Mustering all the courage he can (because, even after sexing each other thoroughly, she still makes him nervous), he stares into her blue, blue eyes without breaking contact.

“Annie,” he begins and pauses, willing himself to stop thinking for a moment and just say what is in his heart.

“I know things are not going as we had initially thought but it’s alright. Everything will be fine. And you’re definitely not alone, please never think that. You have Reiner and… you will always have me.”

He pauses, just a fraction of a second.

“And I promise, we will go back to our homes and to our families.”

He sweeps the fringe of hair on her forehead to place his lips there briefly. Then he brings her hand to his lips and kisses it fervently. “I promise, I promise,” he chants between each kiss.

The act is so innocent compared to their previous activities that Annie is at a loss over what to do next. She wants to lunge forward and hug him, and be held by him while she cries and breaks down, but she also wants to fuck him senseless because his adoration of her turns her on immensely.

She breathes heavily and can barely manage to croak a weak “okay”.

She berates herself once again, her self-hatred rising. Why?! Why is she incapable of doing and saying something nice? If she can’t reciprocate his feelings, at least a basic level of politeness or thankfulness or something.

“We’ll go back... together,” she finally manages to say. It is thoroughly neutral and non-committal, but it’s what she can manage to piece up in such short notice.

He smiles sadly, understanding her struggle and knowing she will never feel for him what he does for her, but unable to love her any less for it. A tear runs down each of his cheeks, and Annie leans forward to peck him on the lips.

As she pulls back, their eyes meet and she decides to go for it. Why not? Everything will change in a couple of days, so she may as well...

“I think I like you,” she says.

There are a few seconds of silence during which Bertholdt’s body flushes a deep red from head to toe. The reaction makes Annie blush as well.

“W-what?” he asks.

He straightens his posture and pulls up his britches, and Annie realizes, horrified, that she had just confessed while both of them had their trousers down.

“Y-You heard me! You wouldn’t be blushing if you hadn’t,” she says in an accusatorial tone, trying to hide her blush while dressing herself. “But it’s not– It’s not love. Or maybe…? I don’t know. Liking someone, having crushes, love… I don’t know anything about that stuff.”

She is angry at herself for being unable to articulate it. It’s complicated, so she wants to explain it properly. He deserves the truth so he understands what she can and cannot give.

“But I also like being with you very much. You are kind and caring and…,” she says, then trails off.

He covers his face with his hands but leaves a v-shaped space between his index and middle fingers for his eyes, which are blinking rapidly to fight tears. When his eyes venture a peek at her face, she can see them crinkle, his smile hidden by his hands.

“I-I don’t know what to say,” he murmurs.

“Don’t expect things to change. I… I’m not sure what this even is,” she warns. “I’m a fucking mess, I don’t... I don’t know.”

Bertholdt takes both of her hands in his again. They are both kneeling in front of each other, open and with their guards down. 

“It’s fine. Honestly, I don’t think I would like things to change either. I mean, I never expected you to… And with everything that is going to happen soon, it’s just…” he says, beginning sentences that he doesn’t finish. Annie knows what he means.

“Right. So it’s fine just the way it is.”

“It’s fine just the way it is,” he says and nods.

Annie gives a little sigh of relief. She had not done a good job of explaining herself, but Bertholdt had understood. “Let’s go back.” 

They fix their uniforms and walk back to the camp. He steals glances at her, letting everything that had happened tonight be absorbed by his body so that when he walks barefoot by a shore he will think of her, and when he smells the nocturnal fragrance of pine trees he will think of her, and when he feels the warmth of his Titan power in every extremity he will think of her, and when he looks at a bright, starry night sky he will think of her.

When he feels like he has committed everything in their surroundings to memory, he gazes at her adoringly. She notices and says a quick, flustered, “What are you looking at?”, and takes his hand to squeeze it for a second, then lets go, trying to appear nonchalant.

His heart beats faster, and he thinks to himself “I love Annie… so much”. He is also _in love_ with her, but not helplessly so (at least he doesn’t think so). He has seen the good parts and the bad parts, and what he feels for her has been present for many years and goes far deeper than just romantic attraction. 

As he thinks this, she gives his a quick side glance and smiles to herself, and he can’t help it when his knees buckle just a bit. She is so lovely.

He is overcome by the need to see her smiling in Liberio with Reiner and everyone else, in crisp white uniforms and their red armbands. It’s not like they’d be happy, but they would be back with their family and friends and each other. At least they’d have that.

Annie and Reiner depend on him to complete the mission, and that is the reason he clings to. This is what steels his resolve to not mess up in Trost.

\- 5 - 

He does mess up, though. They all do. In fairness, there was no way they could have anticipated Eren being the Attack Titan. They had to switch gears halfway and then Marco overheard them and that was a whole nother thing unto itself.

They had thought they were prepared for the death of their comrades. All day their senses had been filled with the smell of blood, the crunching of bones and splattering of entrails on the streets and roofs, and the screaming. So much screaming. 

Marco screamed, too. He cried and big fat tears rolled down his cheeks. When Bertholdt looked back one last time as he and Annie and Reiner zipped away in their ODM gear leaving the poor kid on the roof with both legs broken, Marco seemed to have made the connection between the Warriors and their plan and accepted his fate. Then the Titan came.

It’s one thing to accept death and another one to actually die, mainly because your body will do what it’s supposed to: it activates fear in order to push you into action —fight or flight— and survive. But when you are trapped between a Titan’s hands, when there is nowhere to go and no way to fight, the fear is so much worse.

~

Reiner paces up and down the small clearing in the woods outside of Trost they had set as a meeting point. He is excited, and Bertholdt thinks it’s because of Eren. Despite everything, it is a major advance in the mission and they have to discuss a change in their plans. 

A few hours ago, though, Reiner was having a mental breakdown. He had vomited after watching Marco getting eaten and fell to his knees helplessly. Bertholdt hurried to kneel beside him and put his arm around his back to support him. Reiner bawled.

Annie was crying, too, but she didn’t move from where she was standing. Bertholdt glanced at her, hoping she would get close to them, but she ignored him. 

"I did… Marcel would have done the same, wouldn't he?" Reiner asks, distraught.

His Warrior self had returned and Bertholdt was too exhausted to resent him. He took Reiner’s hand and rested his head against his. "Yes, he would have. There was no choice."

Marcel would have laid a plan for the eventuality of a Titan shifter beforehand. Marcel would have noticed Marco the moment he landed on the roof and was within earshot. If it became necessary, Marcel wouldn't have involved Annie or Bertholdt. Marcel would have dealt with the situation by himself.

Marcel would have done everything right because he is dead and he couldn't fuck things up. He is perfect because he is already dead.

~

Bertholdt starts worrying about Annie, who is nowhere to be seen in the dark forest. “She’s late,” he comments.

With all the chaos of the past few days, people come and go disoriented, afraid, lost. It isn’t hard to sneak out, but they are not quite familiar with the geography surrounding the Trost District. He fears Annie could have taken a different path.

“Ah, she’s here,” Reiner says as Annie’s small figure emerges from the shadows.

“Sorry for the delay. Jean is being _consoled_ by Sasha and Connie right around the bushes in the fork on the road. I had to take an alternative route.”

“Don’t worry. I-it’s not like you kept us waiting. We just got here, too,” Bertholdt babbles nervously.

“Is that so?” Annie says softly.

Reiner doesn’t often see them interacting, but he can tell something is off, even if it’s not immediately evident what. He quickly moves forward with the purpose of the meeting. “Okay, so the thing about Eren… We need to capture him and take him with us to Marley.”

Annie and Bertholdt nod.

“That is our priority now, and we have to change our original plan to fit that.”

“By original plan, you mean us three joining the Military Police,” Annie says.

“You are correct,” Reiner confirms. “We need to be in a position where we can intercept as much information about Eren as we can, so we need to join both branches.”

“But just today they gave the custody of Eren to the Scouts Regiment. Do you think there is a possibility he’ll ever be given to the Military Police before we...?” Bertholdt asks.

“I do believe there is a possibility. I’d like us to be prepared for that, in case it happens,” Reiner replies.

Bertholdt can see where he’s coming from. They are so close, and covering their bases seems like the sensible choice, but… who would go _where_ ? They would have to divide into a group of two and one of them would go alone. Reiner can’t be alone with his current mental state. Bertholdt’s stomach starts hurting at the idea of _himself_ being alone. That leaves… No.

“B-but it would seem suspicious, Reiner. All three of us already said we’d be joining the Military Police…” Bertholdt insists. _‘There has to be another way’_.

Reiner waves him off. “Nah. Everyone heard Jean saying a thousand times he was aiming for the Military Police, and now he’s changed his mind. It’s not going to be suspicious. We were just really moved by the situation, or whatever.”

“You two join the Survey Corps if you want. I’ll stick with the MP,” Annie declares. Reiner and Bertholdt turn to look at her. Her neutral, emotionless expression disconcerts them.

“Oh… Sure, that works. You can go to the Military Police. Bertholdt and I will go to the Scouts, then. Is that okay with you, man?”

He had seen it coming, but Bertholdt still winces at Reiner’s proposal. He doesn’t _have_ to go to the Scout Regiment. He could join the Military Police. There is no real reason he can’t, they would be unevenly divided either way. No real reason, except… Except that Reiner can’t be left alone.

“Ah, it’s fine, I guess,” he acquiesces with a downcast face. “But, Annie… Will you be okay? Alone?”

“I’ll be fine,” she responds.

“Oh… Then I guess it’s okay...”

“Then that’s settled. So, about how to capture Eren, I have a plan,” Reiner begins and goes on about how to disrupt the experiments and campaigns of the Regiment.

Berthold only half-listens, too worried about Annie. 

~

After Reiner had calmed down, Bertholdt walked to where Annie stood motionless and placed a hand on her shoulder in solidarity. She slapped his hand away, not even bothering to look at him. "Do not fucking touch me," she warned.

Bertholdt felt as if he had been punched in the gut. There is the ever-present guilt in his heart, but the searing pain of rejection branded him in a way that almost made him clutch at his chest. She was clearly not okay, but how could he even ask “how are you?” after what the three of them had just done? He only managed to call her name out loud.

“Annie…”

She wiped the tears and snot with the inside of her wrist and cleared her throat.

“I’m fine. We knew this would eventually happen. I just didn’t think we would be so actively involved in a single death like this.”

“Mhmm,” he agrees and then shudders.

He was certain he’d remember every detail of the tragic scene and its aftermath for the rest of his life, just as he remembers the day he kicked Wall Maria as hundreds of tiny humans observed him from below. Just as he remembers the man who had hung himself during their days as refugees.

~

“So will you do it?”

Bertholdt blinks. Something something Scouts, something something Titans.

“I’ll do it,” Annie says. “It’s too late right now, but I’ll go tomorrow and kill the Titans the Scouts captured.”

“Reiner?! Is that really necessary?” Bertholdt asks, alarmed as he realizes what is being planned. “They will not let this go by… A-and, in any case, why? I mean, what could they even learn from two..?”

“Bertholdt, we need to look at it in the long run. We cannot let them experiment with the Titans,” Reiner insists.

“But…”

“It’s fine,” Annie interrupts them. “I have my gear and Marco’s all gassed up, there is no way they could trace it back to me.”

“Exactly,” Reiner agrees. “It has to be done tomorrow night, since the day after you’ll be joining the MP.” With a wary look, Bertholdt observes as Annie nods emotionlessly at the instruction.

~

The next few days after the attack on Trost were a mess, as expected. Every single soldier and cadet was needed everywhere at the same time, and with the relentless cannon blasts to eradicate the remaining Titans inside the city making their ears ring and their heads hurt, it almost felt like they were going mad.

Rumors flew around and were consumed mindlessly, and it was hard to tell what was real until the higher-ups decided to make an official announcement. During the morning of the second day, they were informed that there were no civilian casualties, but so far there were 207 members of the military missing. Eren was still unconscious but as soon as we woke up he’d be sent to trial. The Scout Regiment and the Garrison had eliminated all Titans inside the city, except for two that had been captured for scientific purposes. All efforts would now be focused on reclaiming the remains of the fallen soldiers inside the city.

It was worse than they could have ever imagined. The walls surrounding the city had trapped the heat and the sun for two days, quickening the putrefaction process. There was an incessant buzzing of flies and other small insects, and the harsh caws of crows and magpies that had decided to appear in alarming numbers was one thing. The unrelenting smell of decomposing meat and regurgitated humans, which caused every single person in the operation to gag at least once, was another thing.

Neither of these could compare to the soul-searing, mind-boggling horror of recognizing the body of one of their comrades of three years. Again. And again. And again.

Their faces --or what remained of them-- were twisted in fear and pain. Their uniforms were stained with blood and urine and whatever their digestive system contained at the moment of their deaths. Some of them were missing half of their bodies, and some of them had been digested so as to be almost unrecognizable.

It was only thanks to the medical and forensic specialists and veteran Scout members that they were able to get things done. Everyone else, including seasoned Garrison members, were too shocked most of the time to work without constant instructions and guidance as to what to do next.

Reiner seemed to be the most composed out of the three of them and shepherded a group of recently-graduated cadets around, dragging bodies and laying them side-by-side to await identification. Bertholdt found himself fighting tears back multiple times during the day. Annie was obviously too stunned, her usual cool demeanor replaced by a numb, mindless execution of direct orders.

At one point during the day, Reiner managed to get the three of them alone in a secluded alley. Checking their surroundings furtively, obviously scarred by the situation with Marco, he suggested they retrieve the ODM gear they had taken away from him and discarded.

Annie’s mind snapped into attention at Marco’s name and blinks rapidly to focus. Bertholdt looked at her with concern, and even Reiner noticed her disorientation. “Let’s go. I’ll stand guard on the door and you two go for the gear,” he says.

Hours earlier Jean had discovered his friend’s half-eaten body in that location. There were no more unclaimed bodies in the area, but there was always something to do, so it wouldn’t be particularly suspicious for them to be in there.

Berthold and Annie went inside the house, and she walked to the second floor quietly. He observes the casual mess of daily life: bowls of half-eaten stew with thick slices of bread dipped into them, a pile of folded clothes in a corner chair, a stuffed animal lying on the floor.

“Hey, Bertholdt. Come here for a sec.” Annie called for him from the room above. Glad for a reason to stop thinking about the (former?) inhabitants of the house, he climbs the stairs. As soon as he had, she had pulled him to her hard, catching him off-guard.

She had taken her jacket and gloves off, as well as the handkerchief they used to filter out the contaminated air. She tugged his face covering down to his neck and kissed him violently; it kind of hurt. She grabbed his ass and then groped his body with a hunger that scared him. 

For the first time ever, he pushed her away. “What are you doing?!” he hissed in confusion.

She bit her lip hard and lunged at him again, but he dodged her. 

“A-Annie, we can’t,” he said.

Her face contorted between confusion, rejection, and anger. “Fine!” She bent down to pick the discarded jacket from the floor. As she put it back on, he could see the tight, thin line of her lips and a frown to suppress tears.

“What is going on, Annie? Please…”

She stopped what she was doing and after a long pause, she answered him. “There is nothing going on. Just a mass murderer wanting to get it on with another mass murderer in the scene of the crime.”

“Annie… no…”

“No to what part?”

He wants to say that they are not… that she is not a mass murderer, but he can’t. Because they are that.

“You are… you had to do it. We all had to do it. There was no choice.”

“There is always a choice,” she said coldly. “I could have left you two to figure out what to do with Marco, but I _chose_ to remove his gear.”

As if on cue, she bent down to pick up the ODM gear from the floor, where it had laid for two days undisturbed. He reached for her but she dodged, avoiding the touch she had sought desperately just a few moments earlier.

“Don’t you get it? As long as I have a reason to fight, I will do it again and again, Bertholdt,” she rambled, almost maniacally. “I don’t care.”

“I know, Annie. I know,” he said, but she screamed at him.

“No! No, you don’t know, because you do care. God, you keep bringing up that random man that hung himself all those years. Who does that?!”

"Annie, that is not true," he protested, a little too loudly. “You care. You are a good person, and you deserve better than–”

“Deserve?” Annie asked sharply and scoffed. “What do I deserve? Or you, for that manner? I don’t deserve to be in this fucking mission, and neither do you. Yet, here we are, and if we succeed our friends will die, and if we fail our friends and family die back home. Do we _deserve_ anything? Whatever the outcome, it’s fucked up! ”

Annie’s voice grew louder and angrier and Bertholdt was at a loss for words.

“We trained and we fought,” she paused, swallowing hard to suppress a sob. “... so hard to have the _honor_ of being in this fucking place for five years.”

“Annie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“And you reject me because you think I deserve better than a run-down house with the blood of the person I killed sprayed on its walls!” she snarled. “ I’m doing this because I _want_ to do it! And you,” she shoved him, “you, out of all people, should know there are so little things we can do —things that we actually want to do,” her volume rose in desperation and she pushed him harder.

Bertholdt landed backwards on the floor, and when he lifted his head to look at her, her eyes were half-lidded and cold. He had a flashback to that first night at the stables when she had pushed him just like this and he had been in an equal state of bewilderment.

"Leave me alone," she says in a sharp, warning voice and storms out, taking Marco’s ODM gear with her.

~

"It’s getting late. We should go back," Reiner instructs.

“We can’t go back, all three of us at the same time. It would seem suspicious under the circumstances,” Annie says. “I’ll go fir–”

“Nope! I’ll leave first. Bertholdt said he wants to talk with you alone, Annie,” Reiner interjects.

Bertholdt and Annie exchange glances and then look back at Reiner, who looks extremely pleased with himself.

“Reiner…” Bertholdt murmurs with a resigned sadness that his best friend mistakes as a bashful protest.

“See ya!” Reiner bids them good-bye with a wink and a quick salute, and gets lost in the dark woods.

Bertholdt pinches the bridge of his nose with his index and thumb. Annie threads her right hand into her hair and plays with it casually. The sounds of nocturnal wildlife fill the silence as they both stare at the direction that Reiner just disappeared into.

“Do you really want to say something, or was that just Reiner’s idea of giving you a hand?” Annie asks, finally breaking the silence.

“Ah… No, that was just him trying to nudge me…”

Annie quirks an eyebrow.

“So you haven’t told him…”

“No…” he admits, blushing. “It’s not that I want to keep it a secret, but… we said that things were fine the way they are right now. Are they?"

She moves her hand near his and hooks their pinky fingers together. “They are.”

Neither of them mentions Trost because they know there is no way to rationalize what they lived and felt and said there. It had happened, and that was that.

“Thank you, by the way,” Annie says softly.

“Um…?”

She doesn’t look at him because she knows she’d lose her nerve. “For doing the right thing back then. I wasn’t… I wasn’t thinking.”

He raises his eyebrows, moved by her words. “Oh, Annie. You know I… Well, you know how I feel, but it wasn’t right. I care about you too much to…”

He trails off, embarrassed, and plays with the fringe of his hair.

“It takes courage, being kind,” Annie says softly. “You are kind.” 

Bertholdt seems startled at her words, but it finally dawns on him that she is using his own words from a few weeks back. He can feel the heat on his cheeks and ears, and licks his lips nervously as he searches his mind for the right words.

“Annie… I…” he begins. He takes a big, shaky breath and takes both her hands in his. “Everything will be alright. We’ll definitely go back to Liberio, all three of us together.”

It is now Annie’s turn to be taken aback. Bertholdt’s face is serious and full purpose, which is rare for him.

“And please, _please_ remember that you are not alone, even if you are on a mission by yourself or in the Military Police. I will say it however times are necessary: you have Reiner and you have me on your side.”

His voice starts to quiver a little, but he manages to go one. “And… if you are ever in trouble, we’ll go to help you, so… So…”

She finishes his sentence with a tiny smile full of fondness. “So let’s go home together.”

\- 6 - 

By the time Reiner, Ymir, and Bertholdt reach Wall Maria and are out of the Titans’ reach, Bertholdt thinks he’d already cried himself to the limit. They throw themselves to lay on the top of the wall, hungry and thirsty and bone-tired. As their heart rates decrease and the relief of immediate survival settles in, the consequences of Ymir’s choice become evident and it’s unavoidable to address them.

She seems fairly serene about her fate, choosing to frame the few years she had gained thanks to the Jaw Titan as a blessing. She does not speak of Krista, not right now. It’s too soon. Bertholdt covers his mouth and utters a trembling “Thank you, Ymir. I’m sorry...”

“It’s fine. It wasn’t so bad, being a goddess for a little while,” she confesses, smiling wistfully at the sky, so bright with stars it conjures the memory of her regaining her human form after sixty years of wandering as a mindless Titan.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Bertholdt repeats over and over in a hushed tone to himself.

“Hey, it’s okay, Bert–” Ymir says as she sits up and looks at him, but he is no longer apologizing to her. They are all severely dehydrated and exhausted after the past two days so he can’t produce tears, but he gets caught in a dry sobbing attack.

“I’m sorr–sorry — _hic_ — A-Annie…”

He wails her name again and again, shaking and holding his head with his hands. He doesn’t know if what Armin had said is true, or if it had just been a ruse to distract him and rescue Eren. 

Ymir places her hand on his head, messing his hair fondly. Reiner moves close to him and embraces him from behind. This seems to calm Bertholdt somewhat.

“I-I promised her she wouldn’t be alone,” he sniffles. “That we’d go h-help her if she — _sob_ — was ever in trouble. That we’d all go back together to Liberio.”

“It’s my fault,” Reiner says. “I was the one who decided to separate our group to cover more ground and it was all for nothing. And Annie was captured…”

While Ymir has a general grasp of how things had worked, she doesn’t have all the details just yet. In her weird, aggressive way of comforting people, she starts laughing with insolence.

“God, you idiots. _I’m_ the winner in this blame fest. It’s thanks to me that your mission got messed up not two days after you set foot on the island. Talk about making an impact that affected you for years.”

Reiner and Bertholdt keep quiet as Ymir continues. “It’s not always that I do things like that, but when I do, I do them right. Ymir Impact!”

She slaps them both in the back of their heads hard and stands up. "I have to take a dump," she informs them and walks away. She hadn’t eaten anything in days —and, in fact, half of her abdomen had been eaten and then regenerated— so it was just an excuse to leave the pair and allow them to talk in private. They could talk to her when they were ready.

Reiner grumbles something unintelligible and moves to sit next to Bertholdt. He places his hand on top of his friend’s. “Annie is the strongest person I know,” Reiner says. “I’m sure she’s fine. Remember she can use crystallization, like the War Hammer, and there is nothing that can break that thing.”

Bertholdt gulps audibly. “Yeah…” he says. He doesn’t want to burden Reiner with his feelings and his guilt, so he leaves it at that.

“We will see her again, man. I’m sure. We’ll talk to Zeke, he must be around here somewhere, and we’ll save her. And then you’ll be able to tell her how you feel”.

Reiner is trying to give him hope, a reason to be strong and regain his composure, but it doesn’t work. Bertholdt doesn’t care about his own feelings. He wouldn’t care if Annie came to hate him and never spoke a word to him again, as long as she was safe. 

\- 7 - 

Bertholdt promises to keep Annie off his mind to concentrate on eliminating the Scout Regiment in Shiganshina and carrying out the mission. He almost makes it, too. But it’s only natural, when the Titanized Armin grabs him and stuffs him in his mouth, all alone and afraid and in agonizing pain, that he calls Annie and Reiner’s name. Then, he wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bertholdt sang "Annie's Song" by John Denver (I listened to it for the first time while writing this fic and I got really excited). Annie sang "The End of the World" by Skeeter Davis.
> 
> 02/Nov/2020 - Updated (proofreading, style correction, added more depth to chapter 5)


	6. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge timeskip between the ending of last chapter and the epilogue. Please make sure you read up to chapter 127 of the manga!
> 
> The epilogue was actually written before most of chapter 2, 3, and 4, so I had to make a few adjustments and it may read a little awkward :p. Also, this was before Ar*ani became canon and you can see how I considered even Hitch x Armin more likely because who the fuck falls in love with a crystal who can't talk back?

Annie tends to Reiner’s bashed face even though it will heal by itself, while everyone else gathers into smaller groups getting ready for the night. Armin and Connie move tentatively towards the forest where Jean is crying quietly.

“Marco, huh?” Annie says softly. “I hadn’t thought about him in a while… Strange, given that so much of my mental distress was caused by his death.”

Ever since she was released from her crystal cocoon, she has been unusually talkative.

“I’m sorry, Annie,” Reiner croaks. He has been beaten up, blown up, and torn to pieces too many times to count. By this point, it is more of a nuisance the fact that it’s hard to speak than the actual physical pain. “My fault.”

In an uncharacteristic kind gesture, she gently moves the hair in his forehead back softly so it doesn’t stick to the blood.

“It  _ was _ your fault,” she agrees flatly. It is almost identical to her usual disinterested tone, but Reiner notices there is some concern to it. “But at that point, there was not much we could have done differently.”

She sighs. “For all that training in Marley and then again inside the walls, we sure were just a bunch of snotty-nosed kids.” 

As if on cue, Gabi lets out a big sob from the other side of the bonfire. Falco hugs her and shakes a little, probably holding in his own tears.

Commander Hange walks to them and kindly pats them on the back, then points to the bedroll that had been prepared for them. Both children walk hand-in-hand, exhausted, and lay down.

"We were younger than them, I think, when this fucking mess started," Annie points out, careful not to bring up their crimes by name.

"Nine years ago," Reiner wheezes, "and you didn't even grow a single centimeter."

She pulls on his hair hard.

"Fuck you," she curses, not really annoyed at his teasing. 

The swelling in eyes has subsided enough and he can now open them.

"My bad. I forgot you hated me."

They are too close to the fire so the stars are not quite visible, but Annie's face is pointing at the sky. "I did. I did hate you very much, but I have spent four years doing nothing but thinking. I have learned to let go." 

"Mmm…"

"All things considered, it was good for me. I think… Well, we don't know the effects of long-term crystallization on my body, but I think I did some growing up, emotionally speaking."

They remain in silence for several minutes. Jean comes back —because he always comes back— with a grim expression. Connie pats him on the back. Mikasa joins their group and says something to Jean, placing her hand over his heart. Commander Hange, Yelena, and Onyankopon pick up the plates and cutlery for cleaning. General Magath and Pieck converse quietly.

"I wonder…" Reiner begins, his voice almost inaudible. "If Bertholdt was alive right now…"

Annie lowers her face to observe him. He is laying on the ground with some steam coming from his face. It looks almost completely healed. "If he would be with us here."

Annie doesn't answer, but plays with Reiner's short hair.

"His family is dead and he’d still be part of the military, so probably,” Reiner answers his own question. “Things would have to be quite different, though, starting with Armin being alive."

They both look in the direction of Armin. He and Mikasa are sitting side-by-side, leaning into each other and holding hands. 

“Armin…” Reiner mutters. “It has been a while since Armin became the Colossal Titan, and during all this time… there was no one to lament Bertholdt’s death apart from the fact that the Colossal Titan was stolen from Marley.”

Annie feels her stomach drop.

“Reiner,” she says, softly. “Maybe you can talk to Armin. He came to see me several times while I was crystallized. He told me a lot of things about Bertholdt...”

Reiner elbows himself into a half-sitting position and turns to Annie, surprised at her words. He knows first-hand about Titans sharing memories, but he tends to suppress the knowledge because he hates remembering that Galliard had received both Ymir and Marcel’s and knew exactly what a fraud he was, especially during his last moments. Annie raises her eyebrows in surprise at his sudden movement. He looks at her expectantly.

“Oh, you want  _ me _ to tell you,” she concludes after analyzing his expression for a few seconds.

“Only what you know,” Reiner says. “Armin probably didn’t say a lot.”

Annie snorts. “That bastard wouldn’t shut up, and Hitch didn’t help. She is too good at getting people talking,” she remembers with mild amusement.

“Huh...” Reiner grunts. It takes him a moment to remember who Hitch was. During the short month Annie had been in the Military Police she had had an annoying, nosy roommate, he remembers.

Annie takes a few moments to put her thoughts in order, considering what she should share first. It is a considerable amount, and she isn’t sure she remembers all of it quite right.

“Well… the first time he came after he got the Colossal,” she begins. “I couldn’t see him, of course, my eyes were closed the entire time. He sounded very frightened. He had been having the dreams —you know how it is— and Bertholdt was crying, saying he was in a lot of pain in the end.”

Annie talks slowly, sometimes skipping forward and then having to return to complete the account. Reiner listens intently, his face full of sadness and hurt. 

“And then Hitch actually came onto Armin and things got  _ real _ ,” Annie recounts. Once again, Reiner is disconcerted by how much Annie is talking while delivering it all in her usual monotone, as if she were reading a long, boring treatise and not actually gossiping on people making out.

“...I couldn’t see anything but the sounds are pretty conspicuous. After a while he pushed her off, and then tried to avoid visiting when Hitch was around,” she explains.

“Ok?” Reiner answers, unsure of what to say.

“It seems both Bertholdt and Armin have that in common, not being able to say no when people try to seduce them,” Annie muses.

Reiner freezes. The adrenaline of being confronted with his past sins had not yet dwindled, and it comes back in a wave that makes his skin prickle and sweat.

“What…? Did Bertholdt…?”

“Oh, I don’t mean you two,” she clarifies. “He did mention it once, but I was talking about Bertholdt and me.”

Reiner stares at her wide-eyed, his mouth a well-defined ‘o’. Annie blinks.

"He never told you?"

"No, he didn't, that little shit." 

"I assumed after I left for the MP or crystallized myself he would have told you. Maybe not everything, but something. Then again, he was worried about how you would react because of your… issues,” Annie finishes with a shrug.

Reiner averts his eyes.

"Yeah," he says after a while. "It did get better after a while. He was so patient with me.”

There is another long pause and Reiner sighs. “He cried almost every night, you know? You were always on his mind."

Annie's heart skips a beat in a way it hadn't for over four years. 

"I never understood what he liked about me," Annie says more to herself than to Reiner. 

Reiner has never understood it, either. As far as he was concerned, Bertholdt’s absolute infatuation with the weird, tiny blonde was not only inexplicable, but also meant he had a strong desire to get his ass kicked on a regular basis.

“I don’t think even he knew,” Reiner says.

“Probably not,” Annie concedes. “He was really distressed thinking about these sorts of things. He got all sweaty.”

Reiner chuckles, then silence falls again and each of them thinks about Bertholdt privately.

“I’m going to get a drink of water. Do you want any?” Annie asks as she stands up.

“Sure,” Reiner accepts.

She returns shortly with a leather skin of water and tosses it his way, waits until he is drinking and resumes her talking.

"If I hadn't hated you so much back then, I would have suggested a threesome," she jokes in that deadpan way that people often mistake as sarcasm but usually was the truth.

Water bursts from Reiner’s nose and mouth, followed by subsequent chokes and coughs. Everyone in the camp who is not asleep turns to see what is going on, and then go back to their own activities or conversations. Levi grumbles audibly about idiots making a racket who should be hanged from the nearest tree, God, people are trying to sleep.

"Wha– Like sex?!" Reiner asks in a hoarse whisper.

Annie rolls her eyes.

"Yes, like sex, you idiot. What are you, a maiden?"

Reiner glares and says nothing. A notion sparks inside Annie's head.

"Oh… Are you still a virgin?"

Reiner still says nothing.

"Sorry, I just assumed you at some point had fu–"

"Don't say it out loud," he chides her harshly. "They’ll hear."

He looks pointedly at Gabi and Falco, who are not only out of earshot but plainly fast asleep and snoring, exhaustion having gotten the best of them.

She leans over and whispers, "you had fucked someone." It has the intended effect, with Reiner bursting: "Damnit, Annie," quickly standing up and dragging her about 20 meters further away from the rest of the camp.

She pulls away from him. “We just had our kills, which round the thousands, shoved into our faces in front of everyone and you are worried that your cousin will hear you talk about sex.”

“Shut up,” he warns.

Annie crosses her arms and glares, then turns around to leave.

“What do you want me to say?” he blurts in the exasperated tone of someone who was not asked to explain himself but still does. “Yes, I have never fucked around because there was only one person I wanted to do it with and he didn’t want me in that way.”

This makes Annie stop, but still doesn’t face him.

"We fooled around quite a lot... but I could never bring myself to take it to the next level, and you know he would never take the lead."

Reiner struggles to find the words. “I was always afraid he was just going with the flow and didn’t really want it. I mean, he seemed to enjoy it at that moment, but… I was never really sure, and one thing is making out and —I don’t know, hand stuff or something— and then there’s sex. That just seemed off-limits somehow.”

She remembers Bertholdt expressing something along those lines before. At least they were on the same page, even if they were dumbasses about it and didn’t talk to each other.

“That was really considerate of you, Reiner,” Annie says with a voice dripping with mock admiration, “given how–”

She is going to bring up the Marco incident again, but stops. They have already gone through this earlier, and there is nothing much he or she can add.  _ ‘Growth’ _ , she thinks as she draws in a deep breath.

“Nevermind,” she finishes and drops the subject, but turns to face him. He knows what she was about to say, so he gives her a weak but grateful smile.

“You know, I’m glad Bertholdt could get closer to you. He– I mean, the only thing that he wanted was to be by your side without anything in return. That fact that it got physical was probably beyond his wildest dreams”

“Yeah,” Annie replies lamely.

She squats and then sits down on the grass with a thud. The campfire is not very far off, but it’s enough distance for the stars to twinkle once again in the black sky. She can’t stop looking at them.

“Now that we’re in candid hour... I understand. What you said before, I mean,” she says quietly. “I came on too aggressive and he did seem to like it, but he also protested a lot at first. I wasn’t certain if it was just...”

Reiner kneels beside her and places his hand on her head. Annie crosses her arms over her bent knees and buries her face in them. Today she is too tired to shed even a single tear, but her heart hurts.

He was so kind to both of them, always wanting to make them happy. She remembers how he used the word ‘love’ so liberally, not ashamed of expressing how much they both meant to him. And she remembers how she had been in love with him for one night.

"When Armin came and recounted what had happened in the battle of Shiganshina District, I felt my heart break for Bertholdt. He would have been eaten anyway, if he had managed to go home. But still… It was a really cruel thing, how he died."

Annie glances at Mikasa, Armin, Jean, and Connie, both resentfully and exhausted. She is certain they also resent her, after killing so many innocent civilians and soldiers. 

"I said some truly despicable things to him and then he died," Reiner says. He chokes a little. “And he saved me… He put everything at risk to save me.”

Reiner had already cried his fair share over this, but he would never be over it.

“At least he doesn’t have to live through this fucking mess,” Annie sighs. Reiner nods.

There is another long pause.

“Thank you for talking with me, Annie. I… I will ask Armin tomorrow if he can tell me more about Bertholdt. Maybe I could get some closure on that.”

“Yeah,” Annie agrees.

~

“He was also a really good kisser,” Annie says in the middle of the night.

Reiner, who is also awake next to her, quickly adds: “Amazing kisser. And a natural, too, it was like he just knew what to do with his tongue.”

“Oh, yeah. The tongue… Maybe it’s a Colossal Titan thing,” she muses.

"Well, there's only one way to know: Armin," Reiner suggests playfully. "I bet he would still look like Kris–no, Historia, with a wig.”

Annie makes a face of serious consideration. "That works for me, too".

Their eyes meet and it's too much and they snort and giggle.

Annie sighs wistfully. "I know it's selfish because we're still involved in a huge fucking mess, but I really wish Bertholdt was here, at least for a little while."

Reiner nods. "I get it. He could never see it, though. He always thought he was on the sidelines, but he was so much more than that."

Annie’s heart leaps at hearing Reiner describe Bertholdt in that way, since that was how she often thought of him herself. And, of course, it’s too late to do or say anything that matters, but it somehow makes her feel closer to Bertholdt.

"Kind of like air," Annie offers, finally settling on the analogy she had come up with many years ago.

"Yeah. Kind of like air," Reiner agrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! Thank you everyone who stuck this far! This is my first time writing something so long (125+ pages!) and I'm really proud for completing it.
> 
> I will be creating art for several scenes of this fic, so if you'd like to see them you can follow me on Twitter (https://twitter.com/gwenynbright) and/or Tumblr (https://professaurus.tumblr.com)


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